JJCSB    LIBRARY 


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LITTLE  MILL  DAM; 


WITH    OTHER    SELECT  AND    ORIGINAL 


"True  to  nature,  and  true  in  sentiment. 


NEW  YORK : 
KIGGINS   &  KELLOGG,   PUBLISHERS, 

123  &  125  WILLIAM  STREET. 


THE  LITTLE  MILL  DAM. 

ONE  day  the  master  of  a  small  school,  which  wai 
kept  in  the  outskirts  of  a  retired  country  village,  in  the 
mountainous  regions  of  New  England,  thought  he 
would  go  out  in  one  of  the  recesses  to  seek  a  little 
recreation.  He  had  been  in  the  school  only  a  few 
days,  and  was  as  yet  scarcely  acquainted  with  his 
new  charge.  On  the  steps  of  the  door  of  the  school- 
house  there  were  two  of  the  boys  "  whittling."  They 
started  up  hastily  as  they  saw  him  coming,  but  he 
requested  them  to  sit  still,  saying  that  he  could  pass 
them  as  they  were. 

"  But  where  are  all  the  other  boys?"  said  he. 

"  They  are  behind  the  school-house." 

"  What  are  they  doing  there  ?" 

Such  a  question  would  in  many  cases  put  school- 
boys on  their  guard  ;  but  the  tone  of  the  master  in  this 
case  was  so  good  humored  and  pleasant,  that  the  little 
flaxen  haired  boy  to  whom  it  was  addressed  answered, 
without  hesitation, 

"  They  are  making  a  dam." 

"  Making  a  dam  !"  repeated  the  master  ;  "  that  is 
fine  amusement;  I  must  go  and  see  them.  Come,  go 
and  show  me  the  way." 

The  little  boy  laid  down  his  knife  and  wood,  and 
with  an  air  of  timidity  and  constraint,  as  if  he  was  not 
accustomed  to  such  kind  of  intercourse  with  his  teach- 
er, led  the  way. 

There  was  a  range  of  hills  behind  the  school-house, 


6  THE   LITTLE   MILL  DAM. 

covered  with  a  dark  and  almost  impenetrable  forest. 
The  margin  of  this  forest  extended  down  very  near  the 
school-house,  assuming  here  however  the  form  of  an 
open  wood.  A  brook  which  had  its  origin  in  a  dark 
ravine  far  up  the  hills,  which  the  boys  had  never  ex- 
plored, came  bubbling  down  behind  the  school-house, 
and  passing  it  on  one  side,  it  crossed  the  street  under 
a  bridge,  and  then  winding  its  way  through  some 
meadows  half  covered  with  wood,  on  the  other  side,  it 
glided  at  last  into  a  beautiful  bend  which  stretched  out 
in  the  centre  of  the  valley  in  which  the  town  was 
situated. 

As  the  master,  preceded  by  his  little  guide,  passed 
around  the  corner  of  the  school-house,  he  heard  the 
sound  of  loud  and  angry  voices,  at  the  brook  beyond. 
Half  a  dozen  boys  were  vociferating  together,  and  little 
could  he  understand  except  that  they  were  disputing 
about  the  best  way  to  fix  their  dam.  Among  the  con- 
fused mass  of  sounds,  however,  two  could  be  distin- 
guished, which  seemed  to  be  the  leading  ones  in  the 
discussion. 

"  I  say,  Jack  Wilder,  that  is  not  fair ;  this  is  our 
dam,  and  you've  no  right  to  come  here  and  spoil  it.  I 
tell  you  let  it  alone." 

"  I  a'nt  spoiling  it,  I  tell  you ;  I  am  only  fixing  it. 
You  don't  any  of  you  know  how  to  build  a  dam." 

Just  then  a  timid  looking  little  boy,  who  had  been 
standing  back  at  a  little  distance  from  the  brook,  hur- 
ried to  the  disputants,  and  said,  in  a  low  voice, 

"  Hush !  hush !  there's  the  master." 

The  boys  looked  up,  and  most  of  them  retreated,  as 
by  a  sort  of  involuntary  instinct,  a  step  or  two  from  the 
scene  of  dispute.  Jack  Wilder  muttered,  "What  do  T 
care  for  that." 


THE   LITTLE   MILL   DAM.  7 

Jack  Wilder  was  standing  across  the  dam  of  wet 
sods  which  the  boys  had  made.  One  foot  was  in  the 
water,  and  the  other  half  up  to  the  ancle  in  the  mud 
below  the  dam.  He  had  a  torn  and  shapeless  hat  over 
his  ears.  He  was  short,  but  thick  and  stout,  and  in  his 
broad  and  sun-burnt  face  there  was  a  frank  and  good- 
humored,  but  reckless  expression. 

He  raised  himself  erect,  still  keeping  his  foot  firmly 
planted  in  the  mud,  and  said  again,  but  he  took  good 
care  to  say  it  so  low  that  he  was  pretty  sure  that  the 
master  could  not  hear, 

"  Who  cares  for  the  master." 

In  fact  the  master  was  not  looking  towards  them. 
A  large  and  stout  looking  boy,  named  Samuel,  who  was 
sitting  on  the  bank  several  feet  from  the  brook,  saw 
the  master  when  coming  round  the  corner,  and  he 
observed  that  when  he. came  within  hearing  of  the 
boys,  he  stopped  and  looked  back  towards  the  meadow 
and  pond  beyond  it,  as  if  enjoying  the  prospect.  Sa- 
muel thought  from  his  manner,  that  he  wished  to  give 
the  boys  an  opportunity  to  see  him  before  he  came 
amongst  them.  Be  that  as  it  may,  however,  the  master 
now  slowly  advanced,  and  when  he  was  pretty  near 
the  group,  he  addressed  them  in  a  tone  of  good-humor- 
ed curiosity. 

"  What  are  you  doing,  boys  ?" 

"  Making  a  dam,  sir,"  said  Jack  Wilder,  promptly, 
without  altering  his  attitude  in  the  least,  except  to  push 
back  his  old  hat  a  little  from  his  face. 

"  I  hope  you  have  good  tight  boots,"  continued  the 
master,  smiling. 

"  Sir?"  said  Jack,  with  a  stare;  then  looking  down 
to  his  feet. 


3  THE   LITTLE   MILL   DAM. 

"  I  suspect  that  you  don't  care  much  about  wet  feet. 
You'd  make  a  good  soldier/' 

Up  to  this  time,  Jack  looked  as  though  he  was  in 
doubt  whether  his  new  visitor  came  as  a  friend  or  as 
an  enemy,  and  as  though  he  was  preparing  for  either 
case,  as  the  result  might  determine  it.  There  was 
something  too  in  the  attitudes  and  looks  of  the  other 
boys  which  indicated  plainly  the  same  sort  of  anxious 
uncertainty.  Men  so  frequently  give  the  name  of 
mischief  to  Avhat  boys  call  fun,  that  they  seldom  re- 
ceive a  visit  in  such  circumstances  as  these  without 
some  solicitude. 

Jack  however  considered  the  master's  compliment 
to  his  hardihood  in  the  light  of  an  olive  branch,  and  the 
serious  features  of  his  face  relaxed  into  a  smile.  The 
other.boys  too  began  to  look  somewhat  relieved. 

"  I  used  to  like  making  dams  when  I  was  a  boy," 
continued  the  master; — "but  can't  you  make  a  better 
dam  than  that  ?" 

"Yes,  sir,"  said  Jack;  "I  was  just  showing  them 
how." 

"  I  should  think  you  might  make  a  better  one  then 
than  that.  That  is  not  equal  to  a  beaver's ;  I  should 
suppose  that  boys  could  do  better  than  beavers." 

The  boys  smiled. 

"  I  am  glad  that  you  have  got  this  plan  for  amuse- 
ment in  recess,  for  I  have  been  thinking  that  I  must 
have  some  pleasant  way  of  spending  my  recess.  And 
now  I  propose  that  you  undertake  to  make  a  first  rate 
dam,  and  I  will  come  at  every  recess,  and  sit  down 
here,  and  see  how  you  get  on." 

The  boys  looked  at  one  another,  as  if  they  hardly 
knew  how  to  consider  this  proposal. 

"  What  is  the  matter  ?   you  look  as  though  you 


THE    LITTLE    MILL   DAM.  9 

thought  this  was  a  strange  proposal.  Don't  you  sup- 
pose that  I  want  a  recess  as  well  as  you  ?" 

"  I  never  heard  of  such  a  thing,"  said  Jack  Wilder. 

"  Well,  I  do,"  said  the  teacher,  "  and  I  should  like 
such  a  plan  as  this  very  much." 

"  I  am  willing,"  said  Jack ;  "  we  will  tear  this  all 
away  first,  and  begin  anew ;"  and  he  began  immedi- 
ately to  pull  off  the  soaked  and  dripping  socte,  and  to 
throw  them  upon  the  bank. 

"Stop  a  minute,"  said  the  master;  "let  us  form  a 
plan  before  we  begin  the  work.  Whenever  men  un- 
dertake any  enterprise,  they  always  first  form  the  plan 
very  carefully,  and  assign  to  each  individual  his  share, 
and  go  on  regularly.  In  fact  even  beavers  do  this. 
Now  there  are  a  great  many  kinds  of  dams  which  you 
might  build.  Let  us  consider  first  what  we  shall  do. 
I  will  go  and  sit  down  on  that  stone,  and  you  may  all 
come  around  me,  and  we  will  talk  it  all  over." 

"  See  there,"  said  the  little  boy  who  warned  the  boys 
of  the  approach  of  the  master;  "  the  dam  is  all  wash- 
ing away." 

The  boys  looked  around,  and  saw  that  the  water 
was  pouring  swiftly  over  the  top  of  the  dam,  at  the 
breach  which  Jack  had  made.  As  the  stream  passed 
over,  it  washed  sod  after  sod  away,  and  threatened 
"soon  to  destroy  entirely  the  whole  fabric  which  the 
boys  had  made. 

Several  boys  ran  to  stop  the  breach. 

"  Never  mind,"  said  the  master,  "let  it  go;  we  shall 
form  a  better  plan  than  that." 

The  boys  stood  looking  at  the  torrent,  as,  swelling 
more  and  more,  it  burst  over  its  frail  barrier,  and  glided 
swiftly  away  into  the  stream  below.  They  then  ga- 
thered* around  the  master,  to  hear  what  he  had  to  say. 


10  THE   LITTLE   MILL   DAM. 

"  Nov/,  boys,  I  propose  that  we  proceed  in  a  regular, 
systematic  manner,  as  men  do,  when  they  unite  to  ac- 
complish any  common  object.  You  will  see  what  is 
the  advantage  of  system  and  regularity  before  we  get 
through." 

The  boys  seemed  well  enough  pleased  with  the  idea 
of  proceeding  systematically  and  regularly,  though  they 
looked  somewhat  puzzled,  as  if  they  hardly  knew  what 
system  and  regularity  would  require  in  building  a 
boys'  dam. 

"  In  the  first  place,  are  you  sure  that  you  have  got 
the  best  spot  ?" 

"  I  think  it  is  a  very  good  place,"  said  James,  a  tall, 
black-eyed  boy,  who  seemed  to  be  one  of  the  older 
boys,  although  he  had  not  spoken  before ;  he  was  neatly 
dressed,  and  had  in  his  hand  a  sort  of  cane,  which  he 
had  made  from  a  straight  shoot  of  an  apple-tree  in  his 
father's  garden. 

"  In  order  to  have  a  good  place  for  a  dam,"  continued 
the  master,  "  what  is  necessary  ?" 

"  It  ought  to  be  a  good  deep  place,"  said  Jack  Wilder. 
"  I  don't  think  that  place  is  worth  a  straw ;  I  can  find 
a  dozen  places  better  than  that." 

"  I  think,"  continued  the  master,  in  reply  to  his  own 
question.  "  that  the  stream  ought  to  be  pretty  narrow 
just  where  the  dam  is  to  be,  and  then  it  can  be  made 
easily,  and  the  banks  ought  to  recede  from  each  other 
just  above,  so  as  to  form  a  large  basin,  and  then  the 
pond  will  be  large,  when  it  is  filled. 

"  Yes,  sir,"  said  all  the  boys. 

"  Well,  I  propose  that  we  appoint  a  committee  of 
two  boys,  to  go  along  the  brook  to  examine  it,  and  find 
the  best  possible  place.  Perhaps  they  will  select  two 


THE    LITTLE   MILL   DAM.  11 

or  three  places,  and  tell  us  about  them,  and  then  we 
can  choose.  Should  you  like  such  a  plan  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir,  yes,  sir,"  said  the  boys. 

The  master  nominated  two  of  the  boys  for  the  pur- 
pose, and  said  to  them, 

"  You  must  examine  the  whole  stream,  far  up  and 
down,  or  at  least  as  far  as  we  can  conveniently  go  in 
recess,  and  if  you  are  in  doubt  you  must  report  several 
places,  with  the  reasons  in  favor  of  each." 

"  When  shall  we  do  it  ?"  asked  one  of  the  committee. 

"  They  had  better  go  and  do  it  now,"  said  Jack  Wil- 
der. "I  will  go  and  help  them.  Come." 

"  No,"  said  the  master,  "  you  must  not  volunteer  to 
go  and  help  them ;  they  are  regularly  appointed,  and 
must  do  it  alone.  We  shall  presently  determine  when 
we  shall  wish  them  to  report,  and  then  they  must  be 
left  to  make  the  examination  whenever  they  please, 
only  they  must  be  ready  at  that  time.  We  may  want 
you,  Jack,  for  some  other  service. 

"  There  are  several  other  committees  which  we 
must  appoint,  in  order  that  our  preparations  may  be 
properly  made.  What  shall  we  make  the  dam  of?" 

"  Sods,"  said  the  boys. 

"Is  that  the  best  thing  to  make  it  of?" 

"  Yes,  sir,"  said  James  ;  "  the  boys  always  make 
them  of  sods." 

"We  can  get  better  ones  than  these,"  said  Jack 
Wilder. 

"  Yes,"  said  James,  "  there  are  some  noble  ones  over 
there,  on  the  bank,"  pointing  with  his  cane. 

'  Do  you  know,"  asked  the  master,  "  how  the  bea- 
vers make  their  dams  ?" 

The  boys  hesitated,  and  looked  at  one  another. 


12  THE   LITTLE   MILL  DAM. 

"My  father  has  got  an  account,"  said  little  John, "  in 
his  library." 

"  Did  you  never  read  it?" 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  Well,  don't  you  remember  any  thing  about  it  ?" 

John  did  not  reply ;  and  -while  they  were  all  hesitat- 
ing on  this  subject,  Samuel,  who  had  remained  sitting 
on  the  bank  where  he  was  at  first,  during  all  this  con- 
versation, arose  and  said  respectfully  to  the  teacher, 

"  I  believe,  sir,  the  first  thing  they  do  is  to  gnaw  off 
a  tree  and  lay  it  across  the  stream." 

"  What  is  that  for  ?" 

"  To  make  the  dam  strong,"  said  Jack  Wilder. 
"  That  is  a  capital  plan ;  we  '11  do  ours  so." 

"  How  shall  we  get  down  the  tree  ?"  said  James, 
addressing  himself  to  Jack  Wilder;  "  you  don't  expect 
we  can  gnaw  it  down  like  the  beavers,  do  you  ?" 

"  We  can  bring  an  axe  and  cut  it  down ;  I  can  cut 
one  down  myself,"  said  Jack,  eagerly ;  "  there's  no  dif- 
ficulty in  that." 

"  Who  shall  bring  an  axe  ?"  said  the  master  ;  "  we 
must  appoint  a  committee  for  that  too.  A  committee 
of  one  will  do  ;  who  shall  he  be  ?" 

"  I  can  bring  my  father's,"  said  James. 

"  Perhaps  he  may  want  to  use  it,  or  he  may  be  afraid 
we  shall  dull  it." 

"  Why  can't  we  take  a  log  off  of  the  school  wood- 
pile ?"  said  one  of  the  boys ;  "  there  are  some  there 
which  are  just  the  thing." 

"  Who  does  the  school  wood-pile  belong  to  ?"  asked 
the  teacher. 

"  It  belongs  to  the  school,"  said  Jack,  "  so  that  we 
have  a  right  to  take  it." 

"I  don't  know  that,"  said  the  teacher;  "it  belongs 


THE    LITTLE    MILL    DAM.  13 

to  the  district,  who  have  bought  it  to  be  used  for  school. 
I  think  we  have  no  right  to  take  it  to  make  a  dam  of. 
We  will  not  have  any  thing  in  the  dam  but  what  we 
get  honestly." 

•'  Will  a  little  axe  do  ?"  asked  John,  timidly. 

"Why,  what  if  it  will?" 

"Why,  I»have  got  a  little  one,  which  my  father 
bought  me.  I  know  I  can  bring  that,  for  my  father 
lets  me  do  what  I  please  with  it." 

"This  is  just  what  we  want,  John ;  I  appoint  you  a 
committee  to  bring  an  axe.  What  else  is  to  be  done  ?" 

"  Nothing  else,"  said  Jack;  "  we  shall  not  want  any 
thing  but  an  axe." 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  the  master;  "  I  believe  we  shall 
want  a  good  many  more  things.  But,"  added  he,  tak-  , 
ing  out  his  watch,  "  it  is  time  for  me"  to  go  in.  The 
recess  is  out,  so  that  I  believe  we  shall  have  to  leave 
the  business  here.  We  must  not  neglect  our  duties 
fur  our  play ;  if  we  do,  it  will  soon  cease  to  give  us  any 
plerrsftre." 

The  boys  looked  disappointed  and  sorry,  that  the 
time  of  their  recess  had  expired  just  as  they  became 
most  interested  in  forming  their  plans. 

"When  shall  I  bring  the  axe?"  said  little  John, 
walking  backwards  before  the  master,  as  he  was  walk- 
ing slowly  away. 

"Oh,"  said  the  teacher,  "I forgot;  I  think  it  will  be 
well  to  wait  and  not  do  any  thing  about  it  until  we 
have  appointed  the  other  committees.  Though,  on  the 
whole,  you  may  bring  it,  if  you  please,  this  afternoon  ; 
we  may  want  to  use  it." 

It  need  not  be  said,  that  nothing  was  talked  of.  or 
thought  of  among  the  boys,  during  the  intermission  at 


14  THE    LITTLE    MILL   DAM. 

noon,  but  the  dam  and  the  committees.  All  the  details 
of  the  arrangements,  so  far  as  they  were  made,  were 
fully  talked  over.  Jack  Wilder  was  as  eager  and  as 
earnest  as  any  of  them;  his  whole  soul  was  in  the 
work.  He  said  he  would  have  a  dam  large  enough  to 
turn  a  mill. 

The  boys  gathered  around  the  spot  half  «in  hour  be- 
fore school-time  in  the  afternoon,  talking  over  all  the 
plans ;  but  the  master  was  not  there,  and  nothing  could 
be  done.  They  were  impatient  for  school  to  begin,  that 
it  might  in  due  time  bring  the  recess.  But  their  im- 
patience neither  hurried  nor  retarded  its  approach.  It 
came  just  at  the  usual  time.  The  boys  poured  out  in 
a  torrent,  and  in  a  minute  or  two  after  the  master 
came  walking  slowly  after  them. 

"Well,"  said  the  master,  when  they  were  all  fairly 
on  the  ground,  "  how  far  had  AVC  got  in  appointing  our 
committees?" 

"  I  was  to  give  an  axe,"  said  little  John  eagerly  ;^ 
here  it  is,"  continued  he,  holding  up  a  small 
axe,  which,  from  its  size,  seemed  to  be  made  for  such  a 
purpose  as  this. 

"Let's  see  it,"  said  Jack  Wilder;  "that's  a  real  one." 

"  We  also  appointed  a  committee  to  choose  a  place ; 
but  before  asking  them  what  they  have  done,  we  will 
make  some  other  necessary  arrangements. 

"  In  the  first  place,  whose  land  is  this  ?" 

"  I  believe,"  said  James,  "  it  belongs  to  Mr.  Wil- 
liamson's farm." 

"  Do  you  think  then  we  ought  to  make  a  dam  upon 
it.  without  his  permission  ?" 

"  He  won't  care." 

"  I  don't  believe  it  belongs  to  him,"  said  Jack  Wilder ; 


THE    LITTLK   MIL.L   DAM.  15 

"  it  belongs  to  tke  School.  We  have  a  right  to  do  what 
we've  a  mind-to,  here." 

"  When  thfey  baild  a  school-house,"  replied  the  mas- 
ter, "  I  believe  they  generally  buy  a  small  piece  of  land, 
only  large  enough  for  the  purpose ;  that*is,^t  place  to 
put  the  building  upon,  and  a  small  yard  opposite. 
Now  should  you  tftmk  that  the  school  land  extended 
as  far  as  here?" 

The  boys  all  admitted  reluctantly  that  it  could  not. 
There  was  a  pause.  They  all  were  disappointed  and 
sad  at  the  appearance  of  this  unexpected  difficulty. 

"I  don't  think  it  would  be  right,"  continued  the 
master, "  for  us  to  do  any  thing  of  this  kind,  on  another 
man's  land,  without  his  permission.  And  besides,  it 
will  be  much  pleasanter  for  us  to  have  it,  for  then  we 
shall  feel  safe.  We  shall  have  a  good  title,  as  men 
say  in  such  a  case ;  they  are  always  careful  to  have  a 
good  title,  before  they  commence  any  work  of  this  kind. 
But  how  we  shall  get  our  title  is  the  question." 

The  boys  were  silent,  and  looked  one  at  the  other,  en- 
tirely at  a  loss  what  to  say  or  do.  They  secretly  thought 
that  the  teacher  was  far  too  scruplous  in  this  case. 

At  last  little  John  ventured  to  say  that  he  thought  if 
the  teacher  would  go  and  ask  Mr.  Williamson,  he 
guessed  that  he  would  let  them  make  their  dam. 

"  I  might  ask  him,"  said  the  teacher,  "  but  one  of  you 
can  do  it  just  as  well.  Why  cannot  we  do  this  as  we 
have  done  our  other  business  ? — appoint  some  one  to 
do  it." 

The  countenances  of  the  boys  brightened  at  this 
proposal,  and  the  teacher  requested  them  to  name  some 
one,  who  would  be  a  good  person  to  undertake  the  ne- 
gotiation with  ]Mr.  Williamson.  After  some  hesita- 
tion, one  of  the  boys  named  Samuel,  as  he  was  older 


16  THE   LITTLE  .MILL   DAM. 

than  the  rest;  but  Samuel  looked  embarrassed,  and 
said  tbat  he  would  a  Little  rather  not  do  it. 

"Why,"  said  the  teacher,  smiling,  "what  are  you 
afraid  of?" 

" I  don't  know,"  replied  Samuel;  "I  should  rather 
some  one  else  would  go." 

"  Well,  we  must  not  compel  Samuel  to  go,"  replied 
the  teacher.  "But  then  reflect,"  continued  he,  ad- 
dressing himself  to  Samuel,  "  that  all  these  boys  want 
you  to  do  it;  here  is  a  service,  which,  if  it  is  perform- 
ed successfully,  will  promote  the  plans  and  the  happi- 
ness of  a  great  number. 

"  It  is  perfectly  proper  to  make  such  a  request ;  there 
is  no  probability  that  it  will  be  denied.  There  certainly 
cannot  come  from  it  any  injury,  for  the  worst  that  can 
be  anticipated  is,  that  Mr.  Williamson  should  say, '  No ;' 
and  have  not  you  got  courage  to  hear  a  man  say,  No  ?" 

Samuel  laughed,  and,  after  a  little  more  hesitation, 
said  he  would  go  and  do  as  well  as  he  could. 

Various  other  committees  were  raised.  Two  boys 
were  commissioned  to  go  and  look  at  a  place  where 
clay  could  be  found,  for  the  teacher  told  them  that  clay 
was  the  best  substance  to  retain  water,  and  if  a  good 
bed  of  it  could  be  found  near,  it  would  be  well  to  line 
the  inside  of  their  dam  with  it.  Others  were  appoint- 
ed to  find  a  suitable  place  to  get  turf  if  they  should  need 
any,  and  another  still  to  bring  a  spade  or  a  hoe  to 
school  the  next  day.  And  finally  two  boys  were  com- 
missioned to  look  around  in  the  woods  to  find  a  small 
tree,  about  eight  inches  in  diameter,  which  would  do  to 
place  across,  to  strengthen  the  dam ;  and  Samuel  was 
requested  to  ask  permission  of  Mr.  Williamson  to  cut 
such  an  one  down. 

In  this,  and  in  similar  arrangements,  the  second  re- 


THE   LITTLE   MILL   DAM.  17 

cess  was  consumed,  and  the  boys  returned  to  their  la- 
bors in  school. 

That  night,  after  school,  Samuel  went  with  a  trem- 
bling heart  on  his  mission.  He  walked  slowly  along 
the  road  until  he  came  to  a  large  farm-house.  It  stood 
back  from  the  road  in  a  snug  little  nook,  formed  by  a 
turn  of  the  road,  and  the  swelling  of  the  land  around 
and  behind  it.  The  house  was  of  one  story,  and  paint- 
ed red ;  and  there  was  in  the  spacious  yards  and  nu- 
merous out-buildings  an  air  of  prosperity  and  thrift, 
which  makes  an  American  farm-house  so  often  an 
agreeable  picture. 

Samuel  turned  up  into  the  yard,  inwardly  wishing 
that  he  had  got  fairly  through  his  mission.  As  he 
was  walking  up  towards  the  door,  he  saw  that  the 
farmer  was  busy,  with  several  of  his  men,  laying  a 
wall  for  the  underpinning  of  a  small  building  which 
he  was  about  to  put  up.  Samuel's  unwillingness  to 
execute  the  commission  intrusted  to  him,  was  sensibly 
increased  when  he  saw  himself  coming  into  the  far- 
mer's presence,  and  especially  when  he  saw  that  he 
was  busy,  and  that  he  was  surrounded  with  other  men. 
He  hesitated  for  a  moment,  but  he  reflected  that  very 
probably  one  great  object  that  the  teacher  had  in  view- 
in  interesting  himself  in  the  plays  of  the  boys,  and 
especially  in  sending  him  on  such  a  commission  as 
this,  was  to  teach  them  all  business  habits,  and  to  fit 
them  to  transact  with  more  energy  and  system  the 
more  important  business,  in  which  they  would  in  after 
life  all  be  from  time  to  time  engaged. 

"  It  is,"  thought  he,  "  as  the  teacher  said,  perfectly 
proper  for  roe  to  attend  to  this  business,  and  it  will 
teach  me  a  good  lesson."  So  saying,  he  pushed  for- 
ward boldly  towards  the  place  where  the  farmer  was 
2*  * 


18  THE   LITTLE   HILL  VJOC. 

at  work,  and  stood  before  him,  waiting  till  he  should 
be  a  moment  at  leisure,  as  he  thought,  but  really  wait- 
ing because  he  did  not  like  to  begin. 

They  who  have  any  duty  to  perform,  if  they  pro- 
crastinate it  a  moment  after  the  proper  time  for  its 
execution  has  arrived,  only  increase  the  difficulty  of 
executing  it  at  all.  And  the  longer  it  is  delayed,  the 
more  difficult  it  is  to  begin.  So  Samuel  found  it  in 
this  case.  He  waited  and  waited,  hoping  that  some 
favorable  moment  would  arrive,. but  in  vain.  He  might 
have  known  that  it  would  have  been  in  vain  to  wait, 
for  the  farmer  had  no  idea  that  he  wished  to  speak  to 
him,  and  consequently  went  on  with  his  work,  talking 
with  his  men  about  the  stones  and  the  manner  of  lay- 
ing them,  and  apparently  taking  no  notice  that  a  boy 
was  looking  on.  At  last,  however,  Samuel  became 
tired  of  waiting,  and  wished  that  he  had  spoken  when 
he  first  came  up.  He  now  saw  that  it  would  have  been 
much  more  easy  to  have  done  it  then  than  after  so  long 
a  delay.  At  last,  however,  after  making  a  desperate 
effort,  he  succeeded  in  saying, 

"  Mr.  Williamson,  the  boys  want  me  to-  ask  you  to 
let  us  build  a  dam  on  your  land." 

"  What  ?"  said  Mr.  Williamson,  looking  up/surprised, 
as  if  he  had  not  rightly  understood  what  Samuel  had 
said  to  him. 

"  The  boys  want  to  know  if  you  will  let  them  build 
a  dam  behind  the  school-house  on  your  land." 

"  The  boys  ?  what  boys  ?" 

"  The  boys  that  belong  to  the  school." 

"  What  do  they  want  to  build  a  dam  for  ?" 

"  Only  for  play,"  said  Samuel ;  "  they  want  to  build 
a  dam  behind  the  school-house,  and  we  heard  the  land 
was  yours." 


THE   LITTLE   MILL  DAM.  19 

"  it  seems  to  me  this  is  a  strange  request,"  said  the 
farmer.  "  Boys  are  not  usually  quite  so  scrupulous.  I 
don't  understand  it." 

"  Why,  the  boys  want  to  build  a  dam,  and  the  master 
said  we  had  no  right  to  do  it  on  your  land  without  your 
leave." 

"  Oh  ho,"  said  the  farmer,  "  the  master ;  yes,  tell  the 
boys  they  may  build  as  many  dams  as  they  please.  I 
am  not  afraid  of  their  floating  much  land,"  said  he, 
looking  at  the  men  who  were  working  with  him,  and 
laughing ;  "  and  tell  the  boys,"  continued  he,  "  that  I 
am  very  glad  they  are  so  careful  about  the  right  of 
property." 

"  There  is  one  thing  more,"  said  Samuel,  who  now 
felt  quite  assured  and  self-possessed,  in  consequence 
of  the  success  of  his  first  petition;  "there  is  one  thing 
more ;  they  wanted  me  to  ask  you  if  they  might  cut 
down  a  small  tree  about  eight  inches  through." 

"A  tree?"  said  the  farmer,  "a  tree;  why,  that  is 
another  thing  altogether.  I  don't  like  to  have  my  trees 
cut  down." 

"  We  only  want  one,"  said  Samuel. 

"  Let  me  think,"  said  the  farmer — "  a  tree ;  what 
kind  of  a  tree  do  you  want  ?" 

"  I  don't  know,"  replied  Samuel ;  "  they  did  not  tell 
me  what  kind ;  I  suppose  any  tree  will  do." 

"  What  do  they  want  it  for  ?" 

"  To  make  the  dam  with." 

"  To  make  the  dam  with  ?  you  are  going  on  a  great 
scale.  Yes,  I  suppose  I  must  let  you  have  a  tree  ;  but 
then  you  must  go  back  on  the  hill  for  it.  I  don't  like 
to  have  any  of  the  trees  cut  down  in  the  field  there 
back  of  the  school-house." 

"  How  far  back  must  we  go  ?" 


2U  THE   LITTLE   MILL   DAM. 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know ;  go  up  as  far  as  you  conveniently 
can.  I  had  rather  they  would  cut  down  a  hemlock  too, 
if  it  would  answer  their  purpose  as  well ;  but  at  any 
rate  they  may  have  one ;  and  I  wish  you  would  tell 
them  that  I  am  glad  they  take  care  to  get  leave ;  it  is 
always  best  to  secure  a  good  title." 

The  following  day  was  a  busy  scene  at  the  brook 
behind  the  school-house ;  the  boys  were  all  on  the  spot 
at  the  commencement  of  the  recess.  The  various 
committees  appeared  with  their  reports,  and  all  with  a 
spirit  of  enterprise  and  zeal  which  would  have  been 
amply  sufficient  to  accomplish  a  much  more  important 
undertaking.  Several  places  for  the  dam  were  propos- 
ed. One  was  objected  to,  because  the  banks  where 
the  dam  would  come  were  too  far  apart,  so  as  very 
much  to  increase  the  labor  of  constructing  the  dam. 
Another,  because,  though  the  stream  was  narrow  where 
the  dam  would  be  formed,  the  banks  above  did  not  re- 
cede from  each  other  as  they  ought  to,  so  as  to  form  a 
large  basin  to  be  filled  with  water  when  it  should  rise. 
A  third  was  found  fault  with,  because  it  was  too  far 
up  the  stream,  making  the  distance  from  the  school 
inconvenient.  The  master  explained  to  the  boys  that 
here  was  a  case  where  the  majority  must  govern. 

"How  easy  it  would  be  now,"  said  he,  "for  each 
one  of  you  to  form  an  opinion,  not  all  to  go  to  talking 
loudly  and  boisterously  about  it,  each  maintaining  his 
own  opinion,  and  determining  not  to  yield  to  the  others. 
Then  if  one  party  should  undertake  to  begin  in  one 
place,  the  others  might  begin  in  another,  and  thus  we 
might  have  rival  and  contending  paries. 

"  Men  have  contrived  a  way  to  avoid  all  such  danger. 
They  first  give  each  man  an  opportunity  to  say  all  that 
he  wishes  to,  and  then  they  quietly  vote,  with  the  un- 


THE   LITTLE   MILL   DAM.  21 

derstanding  that  the  majority  will  rule.  Will  you  do 
so  now  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir,"  said  all  the  boys,  cordially. 

While  the  master  had  thus  been  speaking,  the  boys 
had  formed  themselves  into  a  ring  around  him ;  and 
they  were  now  called  upon,  one  by  one,  to  say  all  they 
had  to  say  before  the  question  was  finally  taken.  Most 
of  the  boys  said  nothing,  for  they  were  not  accustomed 
to  regular  debate.  Various  opinions  were,  however, 
expressed  by  others,  and  then  the  question  was  taken. 
The  boys  differed  in  their  final  vote,  but  there  was  a 
majority  in  favor  of  a  place  a  little  further  up  the 
stream  than  the  late  dam,  and  the  boys  all  seemed  to 
acquiesce  pleasantly  in  the  decision.  "I  have  taught 
them,"  thought  the  teacher,  as  he  saw  their  pleasant 
countenances,  "  one  good  lesson  in  republicanism." 

The  teacher  was  right.  I  do  not  know  how  much 
arithmetic  or  geography  he  had  taught  them  that  day. 
But  that  fifteen  minutes,  with  its  lessons  in  the  exer- 
cise of  judgment  and  of  calm  deliberation,  and  in  the 
sacrifice  of  individual  preference  to  the  general  welfare, 
and  cheerful  co-operation  for  a  common  purpose,  may 
possibly  have  been  the  most  valuable  fifteen  minutes 
of  the  day. 

After  the  place  for  the  dam  was  thus  chosen,  the 
boys  said,  that  the  first  thing  was,  to  cut  down  the  tree. 
"  No,"  said  the  teacher,  "  that  is  not  the  first  thing. 
I  have  often  heard  mothers  complain,  when  boys  were 
at  work  upon  dams  and  ponds,  that  they  wet  their 
feet,  and  ruudded  their  clothes,  so  as  to  give  them  a 
great  deal  of  trouble.  Now  we  must  avoid  that ;  and 
in  order  to  do  it,  we  must  make,  first,  a  little  channel 
on  one  side  of  where  the  dam  is  going  to  be,  so  as  to 
allow  the  water  to  pass  off  there.  Then  we  must  put 


22  THE   LITTLE   MILL   DAM. 

some  good  dry  earth  down  over  the  rest  of  the  bed  of 
the  stream,  so  as  to  have  a  neat  dry  place  to  work  m." 

The  boys  agreed  that  this  was  a  good  plan ;  and  in 
a  short  time  this  object  was  accomplished,  by  the  help 
of  a  hoe  which  one  of  the  boys  had  brought.  They 
made  a  deep  cut  on  one  side  of  the  bed  of  the  stream, 
as  the  teacher  had  proposed,  large  enough  to  allow  all 
the  water  to  pass  through,  so  that  they  might  finish 
the  dam  completely  before  they  stopped  up  the  passage. 
They  then  began  to  think  of  going  up  the  stream  for 
a  tree. 

The  teacher  told  them,  that  as  the  farmer  wished 
them  to  go  as  far  up  the  stream  as  possible,  there  must 
be  a  little  calculation  in  order  to  determine  how  far  up 
they  could  go.  He  told  them,  too,  that  he  thought  the 
best  plan  was  for  one  of  the  boys  to  take  his  watch, 
and  then  all  the  boys  could  walk  along  the  path  which 
led  into  the  woods,  until  five  minutes  of  the  recess  was 
out.  "  Then,"  said  the  teacher,  "  you  will  have  five 
minutes  to  cut  down  the  tree ;  and  after  that,  five  mi- 
nutes more  to  return.  Do  you  think  you  can  cut  down 
the  tree  in  five  minutes  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir,"  said  all  the  boys. 

"  Well,"  said  the  teacher,  "  you  know  we  must  all 
be  in  when  the  recess  has  expired ;  so  that  if  you  mee" 
with  any  difficulties,  you  must  leave  your  tree  unti 
next  time,  should  you  not  get  it  down,  and  cut  and 
dimmed  and  prepared  to  bring  back,  at  the  time  allot- 
ted. Here,"  said  he,  "  Jack  Wilder,  you  may  carry 
the  watch,  but  remember  you  must  do  nothing  else,  on 
any  account ;  and  the  other  boys  must  leave  their 
work,  and  set  out  on  their  return,  immediately,  when 
you  say  it  is  time."  Then  he  sat  upon  the  green  bank, 
and  saw  the  company  of  boys  going  off  on  their  expe- 


THE   LITTLE    MILL   DAM.  23 

dition,  Jack  Wilder  before  the  rest,  holding  the  watch 
very  carefully,  and  keeping  an  almost  constant  eye 
upon  the  minute  hand.  "  The  boy  is  learning  a  lesson 
of  carefulness,"  thought  he ;  "  and  he  needs  it,  for  he  is 
the  most  careless  boy  of  the  company." 

Thus  far  several  days  had  elapsed,  during  which  no 
visible  progress  had  been  made.  The  stream  flowed  just 
as  before,  without  obstruction,  and  some  of  the  little 
boys  began  to  be  impatient.  When,  however,  at  length, 
ithe  work  actually  commenced,  it  proceeded  rapidly, 
and  in  what  some  of  the  boys  called  a  magnificent 
style.  They  brought  down  from  the  hills  the  trunk  of 
the  tree  which  they  had  cut,  and  they  fastened  the 
two  ends  firmly  into  the  bank  on  each  side,  digging 
trenches  for  the  purpose.  They  then  took  a  great 
number  of  small  sticks  made  of  the  limbs  of  their  tree, 
which  they  drove  down  obliquely  on  the  upper  side  of 
the  log  which  they  had  placed  across,  the  upper  ends 
of  the  sticks  resting  against  the  log.  They  then  banked 
«p  the  upper  side  of  the  dam  with  earth,  so  as  to  form 
quite  a  pathway  on  the  top.  A  passage-way  was  left 
•for  the  water,  which  they  contrived  to  arch  over  with 
stones,  the  teacher  having  explained  the  principles  of 
the  arch,  and  shown  them  how  to  construct  it  in  this 
instance.  The  work  was  thus  completed,  though  it 
was  perfectly  dry,  as  the  water  had  passed  unobstructed 
under  the  arch  during  all  their  operations.  At  last, 
one  day,  at  the  beginning  of  a  recess,  one  of  the  boys 
was  commissioned  to  stop  up  the  arch  and  allow  the 
-dam  to  fill.  The  boys  leaped  around  it  with  delight 
as  the  water  rose,  filling  every  corner  and  every  in- 
dentation in  the  shore,  and  rising  higher  and  higher, 
until  it  was  nearly  level  with  the  top.  They  ran 
back  and  forth  across  the  path  which  the  broad  top  of 


24 


THE   LITTLE   MILL   DAM. 


the  dam  afforded,  and  leaped  in  exultation  across  the 
stream  where  it  fell  into  the  capacious  basin  which 
they  had  inclosed. 

The  teacher  sat  on  the  bank  enjoying  their  pleasure. 
The  enjoyment  which  the  whole  scene  had  afforded 
him  did  not  arise  merely  from  the  thought  that  he  had 
been  most  effectually  teaching  them  habits  of  order 
and  system  in  the  transaction  of  business.  He  sym- 
pathized with  them  in  the  pleasure  of  the  work :  it 
was  amusement  to  him  as  well  as  to  them,  for,  though 
he  was  a  man,  he  had  not  ceased  to  partake  in  the 
feelings  of  the  boy. 


BLACK  GILES  THE  POACHER. 

POACHING  GILES*  lives  on  the  borders  of  one  of  those 
great  moors  in  Somersetshire.  Giles,  to  be  sure,  has 
been  a  sad  fellow  in  his  time  ;  and  it  is  none  of  his  fault 
if  his  whole  family  do  not  end  their  career,  either  at  the 
gallows  or  at  Botany  Bay.  He  lives  at  that  mud  cottage 
with  the  broken  windows,  stuffed  with  dirty  rags,  just 
beyond  the  gate  which  divides  the  upper  from  the  lower 
moor.  You  may  know  the  house  at  a  good  distance  l.y 
the  ragged  tiles  on  the  roof,  and  the  loose  stones  which 
are  ready  to  drop  out  from  the  chimney ;  though  a  short 
ladder,  a  hod  of  mortar,  and  half  an  hour's  leisure  time, 
would  have  prevented  all  this,  and  made  the  little  dwel- 
ling tight  enough.  But  as  Giles  had  never  learned  any 
thing  that  was  good,  so  he  did  not  know  the  value  of 
such  useful  sayings,  as,  that  'a  tile  in  time  saves  nine.' 

Besides  this,  Giles  fell  into  that  common  mistake,  that 
a  beggarly  looking  cottage,  and  filthy  ragged  children, 
raised  most  compassion,  and  of  course  drew  most  char- 
ity. But  as  cunning  as  he  was  in  other  things,  he  was 
out  in  his  reckoning  here ;  for  it  is  neatness,  housewifery, 
and  a  decent  appearance,  which  draw  the  kindness  of 
the  ricli  and  charitable,  while  they  turn  away  disgusted 
from  filth  and  laziness ;  not  out  of  pride,  but  because 
they  see  that  it  is  next  to  impossible  to  mend  the  condi- 
tion of  those  who  degrade  themselves  by  dirt  and  sloth ; 

*  In  England  the  proprietors  of  the  land  when  they  let  it  to  tenants, 
reserve  the  riclit  to  themselves  of  hunting  the  game  upon  it,  such  aa 
hares,  partridges,  &.c.  Whenever  any  other  person  takes  or  kills  this 
game  it  is  called  poaching. 

3 


26  BLACK   GILES. 

and  few  people  care  to  help  those  who  will  not  help 
themselves 

The  common  on  which  Giles's  hovel  stands  is  quite 
a  deep  marsh  in  a  wet  winter:  but  in  summer  it  looks 
green  and  pretty  enough.  To  he  sure  it  would  be  rather 
convenient  when  one  passes  that  way  in  a  carriage,  if 
one  of  the  children  would  run  out  and  open  the  gate  :  but 
instead  of  any  one  of  them  running  out  as  soon  as  they 
heard  the  wheels,  which  would  be  quite  time  enough, 
what  does  Giles  do,  but  set  all  his  ragged  children,  with 
dirty  faces,  matted  locks,  and  naked  feet  and  legs,  to  lie 
all  clay  upon  a  sand  bank  hard  by  the  gate,  waiting  for 
the  slender  chance  of  what  may  be  picked  up  from  trav- 
ellers. At  the  sound  of  a  carriage,  a  whole  covey  of 
these  little  scare-crows  start  up,  rush  to  the  gate,  and  all 
at  once  thrust  out  their  hats  and  aprons ;  and  for  fear  that 
this,  together  with  the  noise  of  their  clamorous  begging, 
should  not  sufficiently  frighten  the  horses,  they  are  very 
apt  to  let  the  gate  slap  full  against  you,  before  you  are 
half  way  through,  in  their  eager  scuffle  to  snatch  from 
each  other  the  halfpence  which  you  have  thrown  out  to 
lliern.  I  know  two  ladies  who  were  one  day  very  near 
being  killed  by  these  abominable  tricks. 

Thus  five  or  six  little  idle  creatures,  who  might  be 
earning  a  trifle  by  knitting  at  home,  who  might  be  use- 
ful to  the  public  by  working  in  the  field,  and  who  might 
assist  their  families  by  learning  to  get  their  bread  twenty 
honest  ways,  are  suffered  to  lie  about  all  day,  in  the 
hope  of  a  few  chance  halfpence,  which,  after  all,  they 
are  by  no  means  sure  of  getting.  Indeed,  when  the 
neighboring  gentlemen  found  out  that  opening  the  gate 
was  the  family  trade,  they  soon  left  off  giving  any  thing. 
And  I  myself,  though  I  used  to  take  out  a  penny  ready 
to  give,  had  there  been  only  one  to  receive  it,  when  I  see 


BLACK    GILES.  5*7 

a  whole  family  established  in  so  beggarly  a  trade,  quietly 
put  it  back  again  in  my  pocket,  and  give  nothing  at  all. 
And  so  few  travellers  pass  that  way,  that  sometimes 
after  the  whole  family  have  lost  a  day,  their  gains  do 
not  amount  to  two-pence. 

As  Giles  had  a  far  greater  taste  for  living  by  his  wits 
than  his  work,  he  was  at  one  time  in  hopes  that  his 
children  might  have  got  a  pretty  penny  by  tumbling  for 
the  diversion  of  travellers,  and  he  set  about  training  them 
in  that  indecent  practice  ;  but  unluckily  the  moors  being 
level,  the  carriage  travelled  faster  than  the  children 
tumbled.  He  envied  those  parents  who  lived  on  the 
London  road,  over  the  Wiltshire  downs,  which  downs 
being  very  hilly,  it  enables  the  tumbler  to  keep  pace 
with  the  traveller,  till  he  sometimes  extorts  from  the 
light  and  unthinking,  a  reward  instead  of  a  reproof.  I 
beg  leave,  however,  to  put  all  gentlemen  and  ladies  in 
mind,  that  such  tricks  are  a  kind  of  apprenticeship  to  the 
trades  of  begging  and  thieving;  and  that  nothing  is  more 
injurious  to  good  morals,  than  to  encourage  the  poor  in 
any  habits  which  may  lead  them  to  live  upon  chance. 

Giles,  to  be  sure,  as  his  children  grew  older,  began  to 
train  them  to  such  other  employments,  as  the  idle  habits 
they  had  learned  at  the  gate  very  properly  qualified  them 
for.  The  right  of  common,  which  some  of  the  poor 
cottagers  have  in  that  part  of  the  country,  and  which  is 
doubtless  a  considerable  advantage  to  many,  was  con- 
verted by  Giles,  into  the  means  of  corrupting  his  whole 
family ;  for  his  children,  as  soon  as  they  grew  too  big  for 
the  trade  of  begging  at  the  gate,  were  promoted  to  the 
dignity  of  thieves  on  the  moor.  Here  he  kept  two  or 
three  asses,  miserable  beings,  which  if  they  had  the  good 
fortune  to  escape  an  untimely  death  by  starving,  did  not 
fail  to  meet  with  it  by  beating.  Some  of  the  biggest 


«0  BLACK    GILES. 

boys  were  sent  out  with  these  lean  and  galled  animals 
to  carry  sand  or  coals  about  the  neighboring  towns, 
Both  sand  and  coals  were  often  stolen  before  they  got 
them  to  sell ;  or  if  not,  they  always  took  care  to  cheat  in 
selling  them.  By  long  practice  in  this  art,  they  grew  so 
dexterous,  that  they  could  give  a  pretty  good  guess  how 
large  a  coal  they  could  crib  out  of  every  bag  before  the 
buyer  would  be  likely  to  miss  it. 

All  their  odd  time  was  taken  up  under  the  pretence 
of  watching  their  asses  on  the  moor,  or  running  after 
five  or  six  half-starved  geese  :  but  the  truth  is  these  boys 
were  only  watching  for  an  opportunity  to  steal  an  odd 
goose  of  their  neighbor's,  while  they  pretended  to  look 
after  their  own.  They  used  also  to  pluck  the  quills  or 
the  down  from  these  poor  live  creatures,  or  half  milk  a 
cow  before  the  farmer's  maid  came  with  her  pail.  They 
all  knew  how  to  calculate  to  a  minute  what  time  to  be 
down  in  a  morning  to  let  out  their  lank  hungry  beasts, 
which  they  had  turned  over  night  into  the  farmer's  field 
to  steal  a  little  good  pasture.  They  contrived  to  get 
there  just  time  enough  to  escape  being  caught  replacing 
the  stakes  they  had  pulled  out  for  the  cattle  to  get 
over.  For  Giles  was  a  prudent  long-headed  fellow; 
and  whenever  he  stole  food  for  his  colts,  took  care  never 
to  steal  stakes  from  the  hedges  at  the  same  place.  He 
had  sense  enough  to  know  that  the  gain  did  not  make 
up  for  the  danger ;  he  knew  that  a  loose  fagot,  pulled 
from  a  neighbor's  pile  of  wood  after  the  family  were 
gone  to  bed,  answered  the  end  better,  and  was  not  half 
the  trouble. 

Among  the  many  trades  which  Giles  professed,  he 
sometimes  practised  that  of  a  rat  catcher ;  but  he  was 
addicted  to  so  many  tricks,  that  he. never  followed  the 
same  trade  long ;  for  detection  will,  sooner  or  later,  fol- 


BLACK    GILES.  2U 

low  the  best  concerted  villany.  Whenever  he  was  sent 
for  to  a  farm-house,  bis  custom  was  to  kill  a  few  of  the 
old  rats,  always  taking  care  to  leave  a  little  stock  of  young 
ones  alive,  sufficient  to  keep  up  the  breed  ; '  for,'  said  he, 
'  if  I  were  to  be  such  a  fool  as  to  clear  a  house  or  a  barn 
at  once,  how  would  my  trade  be  carried  on  ?'  Arid  where 
any  barn  was  over-stocked,  he  used  to  borrow  a  few 
rats  from  thence,  just  to  people  a  neighboring  granary 
which  had  none ;  and  he  might  have  gone  on  till  now, 
had  he  not  unluckily  been  caught  one  evening  emptying 
his  cage  of  rats  under  parson  Wilson's  barn  door. 

This  worthy  minister,  Mr.  Wilson,  used  to  pity  the 
neglected  children  of  Giles,  as  much  as  he  blamed  the 
wicked  parents.  He  one  day  picked  up  Dick,  who  was 
far  the  best  of  Giles's  bad  boys.  Dick  was  loitering 
about  in  a  field  behind  the  minister's  garden  in  search 
of  a  hen's  nest,  his  mother  having  ordered  him  to  bring 
home  a  few  eggs  that  night,  by  hook  or  by  crook,  as 
Giles  was  resolved  to  have  some  pancakes  for  supper, 
though  he  knew  that  eggs  were  a  penny  apiece.  Mr. 
Wilson  had  long  been  desirous  of  snatching  some  of 
this  vagrant  family  from  ruin  ;  and  his  chief  hopes  were 
bent  on  Dick,  as  the  least  hackneyed  in  knavery.  He 
had  once  given  him  a  new  pair  of  shoes,  on  his  promis- 
ing to  go  to  school  next  Sunday;  but  no  sooner  had 
Rachel,  the  boy's  mother,  got  the  shoes  into  her  posses- 
sion, than  she  pawned  them  for  a  bottle  of  gin ;  and 
odered  the  boy  to  keep  out  of  the  parson's  sight,  and  to  be 
sure  to  play  his  marbles  on  Sunday  for  the  future,  at  the 
other  end  of  the  parish,  and  not  near  the  church-yard. 
Mr.  Wilson,  however,  picked  up  the  boy  once  more,  for 
it  was  not  his  way  to  despair  of  any  body.  Dick  was 
just  going  to  take  to  his  heels,  as  usual,  for  fear  the 
old  story  of  the  shoes  should  be  brought  forward ;  but, 


30  BLACK    GILES. 

finding  he  could  not  get  off,  what  does  he  do  but  run  into 
a  little  puddle  of  muddy  water  which  lay  between  him 
and  the  minister,  that  the  sight  of  his  naked  feet  might 
not  bring  on  the  dreaded  subject  Now  it  happened 
that  Mr.  Wilson  was  planting  a  little  field  of  beans,  so  he 
thought'this  a  good  opportunity  to  employ  Dick,  and  he 
told  him  he  had  got  some  pretty  easy  work  for  him. 
Dick  did  as  he  was  bid ;  he  willingly  went  to  work,  and 
readily  began  to  plant  his  beans  with  despatch  and  regu- 
larity according  to  the  directions  given  him. 

While  the  boy  was  busily  at  work  by  himself,  Giles 
happened  to  come  by,  having  been  skulking  round  the 
back  way  to  look  over  the  parson's  garden  wall,  to  see 
if  there  was  any  thing  worth  climbing  over  for  on  the 
ensuing  night.  He  spied  Dick,  and  began  to  scold  him 
for  working  for  the  stingy  old  parson,  for  Giles  bad  a 
natural  antipathy  to  whatever  belonged  to  the  church. 
'What  has  he  promised  thee  a  day?'  said  he;  'little 
enough  I  dare  say.'  '  He  is  not  to  pay  me  by  the  day,' 
said  Dick,  '  but  says  he  will  give  me  so  much  when  I 
have  planted  this  peck,  and  so  much  for  the  next.'  '  Oh, 
oh!  that  alters  the  case,'  said  Giles.  'One  may,  indeed, 
get  a  trifle  by  this  sort  of  work.  I  hate  your  regular 
day-jobs,  where  one  can't  well  avoid  doing  one's  work 
for  one's  money.  Come,  give  me  a  handful  of  the  beans, 
I  will  teach  thee  how  to  plant  when  thou  art  paid  for 
planting  by  the  peck.  All  we  have  to  do  in  that  case  is 
to  despatch  the  work  as  fast  as  we  can,  and  get  rid  of 
the  beans  with  all  speed  ;  and  as  to  the  seed  coming  up 
or  not,  that  is  no  business  of  ours ;  we  are  paid  for 
planting  not  for  growing.  At  the  rate  thou  goest  on 
thou  wouldst  not  get  sixpence  to  night  Come  along, 
bury  away.'  So  saying  he  took  his  hatful  of  the  seed, 
and  where  Dick  had  been  ordered  to  set  one  bean,  Giles 


BLACK   GILES.  31 

buried  a  dozen ;  of  course  the  beans  were  soon  out.  But 
though  the  peck  was  emptied,  tlie  ground  was  unplant- 
ed.  But  cunning  Giles  knew  this  could  not  be  found 
out  till  the  time  when  the  beans  might  be  expected  to 
come  up,  'and  then  Dick,'  says  he,  'the  snails  and  the 
mice  may  go  shares  in  the  blame,  or  we  can  lay  the 
fault  on  the  rooks  or  the  black-birds.'  So  saying  he  sent 
the  boy  into  the  parsonage  to  receive  his  pay,  taking 
care  to  secure  about  a  quarter  of  the  peck  of  beans  for 
his  own  colt.  He  put  both  bag  and  beans  into  his  own 
pocket  to  carry  home,  bidding  Dick  tell  Mr.  Wilson  that 
he  had  planted  the  beans  and  lost  the  bag. 

In  the  meantime  Giles's  other  boys  were  busy  in  emp- 
tying the  ponds  and  trout  streams  in  the  neighboring 
manor.  They  would  steal  away  the  carp  and  tench 
when  they  were  no  bigger  than  gudgeons.  By  this  un- 
timely depredation  they  plundered  the  owner  of  his 
property,  without  enriching  themselves.  But  the  pleas- 
ure of  mischief  was  reward  enough.  These,  and  a 
hundred  other  little  thieveries,  they  committed  with  such 
dexterity,  that  old  Tim  Crib,  whose  son  was  transported 
at  the  last  assizes*  for  sheep  stealing,  used  to  be  often 
reproaching  his  boys  that  Giles's  sons  were  worth  a  hun- 
dred of  such  blockheads,  as  he  had;  for  scarce  a  night 
passed  but  Giles  had  some  little  comfortable  thing  for 
supper  which  his  boys  had  pilfered  iri  the  day,  while 
his  undutiful  dogs  never  stole  any  thing  worth  having. 
Giles,  in  the  meantime,  was  busy  in  his  way,  but  as 
busy  as  he  was  in  laying  his  nets,  starting  coveys,  and 
training  dogs,  he  always  took  care  that  his  depreda- 
tions should  not  be  confined  merely  to  game. 

Giles's  boys  had  never  seen  the  inside  of  a  church 

*  Session  of  a  court  fur  the  trial  of  criminals. 


32  BLACK   GILES. 

since  they  were  christened,  and  the  father  thought  he 
knew  his  own  interest  better  than  to  force  them  to  it; 
for  church  time  was  the  season  of  their  harvest.  Then 
the  hens'  nests  were  searched,  a  stray  duck  was  clapped 
under  the  smock  frock,  the  tools  which  might  have  heen 
left  by  chance  in  a  farm-yard  were  picked  up,  and  all 
the  neighboring  pigeon-houses  were  thinned,  so  that 
Giles  used  to  boast  to  tawny  Rachel  his  wife,  that  Sun- 
day was  to  them  the  most  profitable  day  in  the  week. 
With  her  it  was  certainly  the  most  laborious  day,  as  she 
always  did  her  washing  and  ironing  on  the  Sunday 
morning,  it  being,  as  she  said,  the  only  leisure  day  she 
had,  for  on  the  other  days  she  went  about  the  country 
telling  fortunes,  and  selling  dream-books  and  wicked 
songs.  Neither  her  husband's  nor  her  children's  clothes 
were  ever  mended,  and  if  Sunday,  her  idle  day,  had  not 
come  about  once  in  every  week,  it  is  likely  they  would 
never  have  been  washed  neither  You  might  however 
see  her  as  you  were  going  to  church  smoothing  her 
own  rags  on  her  best  red  cloak,  which  she  always  used 
for  her  ironing-cloth  on  Sundays,  for  her  cloak  when 
she  travelled,  and  for  her  blanket  at  night ;  such  a 
wretched  manager  was  Rachel!  Among  her  other 
articles  of  trade,  one  was  to  make  and  sell  peppermint, 
and  other  distilled  waters.  These  she  had  the  cheap  art 
of  making  without  trouble  and  without  expense,  for  she 
made  them  without  herbs  and  without  a  still.  Her  way 
was,  to  fill  so  many  quart  bottles  with  plain  water,  put- 
ting a  spoonful  of  mint  water  in  the  mouth  of  each 
these  she  corked  down  with  rosin,  carrying  to  each  cus- 
tomer a  phial  of  real  distilled  water  to  taste  by  way  of 
sample.  This  was  so  good  that  her  bottles  were  common- 
ly bought  up  without  being  opened  ;  but  if  any  suspicion 
arose,  and  she  was  forced  to  uncork  a  bottle,  by  the  few 


BLACK    OfLKS.  33 

drops  of  distilled  waters  lying  at  the  top,  she  even  then 
escaped  detection,  and  took  care  to  get  out  of  reach 
before  the  bottle  was  opened  a  second  time.  She  was 
too  prudent  ever  to  go  twice  to  the  same  house. 

There  is  hardly  any  petty  mischief  that  is  not  con- 
nected with  the  life  of  a  poacher.  Mr.  Wilson  was  aware 
of  this ;  he  was  not  only  a  pious  clergyman,  but  an  up- 
right justice.  He  used  to  say,  that  people  who  were 
truly  conscientious,  must  be  so  in  small  things  as  well 
as  in  great  ones,  or  they  would  destroy  the  effect  of  their 
own  precepts,  and  their  example  would  not  be  of  gene- 
ral use.  For  this  reason  he  never  would  accept  of  a 
hare  or  a  partridge  from  any  unqualified  person*  in  the 
parish:  He  did  not  content  himself  with  shuffling  the 
thing  off  by  asking  questions,  and  pretending  to  take  it 
for  granted  in  a  general  way  that  the  game  was  fairly 
come  at ;  but  he  used  to  say,  that  by  receiving  the  booty 
he  connived  at  a  crime,  made  himself  a  sharer  in  it;  and 
if  he  gave  a  present  to  the  man  who  brought  it,  he  even 
tempted  him  to  repeat  the  fault. 

One  day  poor  Jack  Weston,  an  honest  fellow  in  the 
neighborhood,  whom  Mr.  Wilson  had  kindly  visited  and 
relieved  in  a  long  sickness,  from  which  he  was  but  just 
recovered,  was  brought  before  him  as  he  was  sitting  on 
the  justice's  bench ;  Jack  was  accused  of  having  knocked 
down  a  hare ;  and  of  all  the  birds  in  the  air  who  should 
the  informer  be  but  black  Giles  the  poacher  ?  Mr.  Wilson 
was  grieved  at  the  charge ;  he  had  a  great  regard  for 
Jack,  but  he  had  still  a  greater  regard  for  the  law.  The 
poor  fellow  pleaded  guilty.  He  did  not  deny  the  fact, 
but  said  he  did  not  consider  it  as  a  crime,  for  he  did 
not  think  game  was  private  property,  and  he  owned  he 

*That  is  any  person  whom  he  knew  not  to  be  authorised  to  hunt 
tbera. 


34  BLACK    GILKS. 

had  a  strong  temptation  for  doing  what  lie  had  done, 
which  he  hoped  would  plead  his  excuse.  The  justice 
desired  to  know  what  this  temptation  \vas. — '  Sir,'  said 
the  poor  fellow, '  you  know  J  was  given  over  this  spring 
in  a  bad  fever.  I  had  no  friend  in  the  world  hut  you, 
sir.  Under  God  you  saved  my  life  hy  your  charitable 
relief;  and  I  trust  also  you  may  have  helped  to  save  my 
soul  by  your  prayers  and  your  good  advice  ;  for,  by  the 
grace  of  God,  I  have  turned  over  a  new  leaf  since  that 
sickness. 

'I  know  1  can  never  make  you  amends  for  all  your 
goodness,  hut  I  thought  it  would  be  some  comfort  to 
my  full  heart  if  1  could  but  once  give  you  some  little 
token  of  my  gratitude.  So  I  had  trained  a  pair  of  nice 
turtle  doves  for  madam  Wilson,  but  they  were  stolen 
from  me,  sir,  and  1  do  suspect  black  Giles  stole  them. 
Yesterday  morning,  sir,  as  I  was  crawling  out  to  my 
work,  for  1  am  still  but  very  weak,  a  fine  hare  ran  across 
niy  path.  I  did  not  stay  to  consider  whether  it  was 
wrong  to  kill  a  hare,  but  I  felt  it  was  right  to  show  my 
gratitude ;  so,  sir,  without  a  moment's  thought  1  did 
knock  down  the  hare,  which  I  was  going  to  carry  to 
your  worship,  because  I  knew  madam  was  fond  of  hare. 
I  am  truly  sorry  for  my  fault,  and  will  submit  to  what- 
ever punishment  your  worship  may  please  to  inflict.' 

Mr.  Wilson  was  much  moved  with  this  honest  con- 
fession, and  touched  with  the  poor  fellow's  gratitude. 
What  added  to  the  effect  of  the  story,  was  the  weak 
condition  and  pale  sickly  looks  of  the  offender.  r?ut 
this  worthy  magistrate  never  suffered  his  feelings  to  bias 
*iis  integrity  ;  he  knew  that  he  did  not  sit  on  that  bench 
to  indulge  pity,  but  to  administer  justice;  and  while  he 
was  sorry  for  the  offender,  he  would  never  justify  the 
offence.  'John,'  said  he, '  1  am  suprised  that  you  could 


BLACK    GILES.  35 

for  a  moment  forget  that  I  never  accept  any  gift  which 
causes  the  giver  to  break  a  law.  On  Sunday  I  teach 
you  from  the  pulpit  the  laws  of  God,  whose  minister  I 
arn.  At  present  I  fill  the  chair  of  the  magistrate,  to  en- 
force and  execute  the  laws  of  the  land.  Between  those 
and  the  others  there  is  more  connection  than  you  are 
aware.  I  thank  you,  John,  for  your  affection  to  me,  and 
I  admire  your  gratitude ;  but  I  must  not  allow  either 
affection  or  gratitude  to  be  brought  as  a  plea  for  a  wrong 
action.  It  is  not  your  business  nor  mine,  John,  to  settle 
whether  the  game  laws  are  good  or  bad.  Till  they  are 
repealed  we  must  obey  them.  3Iany,  I  doubt  not, 
break  these  laws  through  ignorance,  and  many,  I  am 
certain,  who  would  not  dare  to  steal  a  goose  or  a  turkey, 
make  no  scruple  of  knocking  down  a  hare  or  a  partridge. 
You  will  hereafter  think  yourself  happy  that  this  your 
first  attempt  has  proved  unsuccessful,  as  I  trust  you  are 
too  honest  a  fellow  ever  to  intend  to  turn  poacher. 
With  poaching  much  moral  evil  is  connected  ;  a  habit  of 
nightly  depredation  ;  a  custom  of  prowling  in  the  dark 
for  prey  produces  in  time  a  disrelish  for  honest  labor. 
He  whose  first  offence  was  committed  without  much 
thought  or  evil  intention,  if  he  happens  to  succeed  a  few 
times  in  carrying  off  his  booty  undiscovered,  grows 
bolder  and  bolder:  and  when  lie  fancies  there  is  no 
shame  attending  it,  he  very  soon  gets  to  persuade  him- 
self that  there  also  is  no  sin.  While  some  people  pre- 
tend a  scruple  about  stealing  a  sheep,  they  partly  live  by 
plundering  of  warrens.  But  remember  that  the  war 
rener  pays  a  high  rent,  and  that  therefore  his  rabbits 
are  as  much  his  property  as  his  sheep.  Do  not  then 
deceive  yourselves  with  these  false  distinctions.  \I1 
property  is  sacred,  and  as  the  laws  of  the  land  are  in- 
tended to  fence  in  that  property,  he  who  brings  up  his 


36  RT.ACK     GILES. 

children  to  break  down  any  of  these  fences,  brings  them 
up  to  certain  sin  and  ruin.  He  who  begins  with  rob- 
bing orchards,  rabbit-warrens,  and  fish-ponds,  will  pro- 
bably end  with  horse-stealing  or  high-way  robbery. 
Poaching  is  a  regular  apprenticeship  to  bolder  crimes, 
lie  whom  I  may  commit  as  a  boy  to  sit  in  the  stocks 
for  killing  a  partridge,  may  be  likely  to  end  at  the  gal- 
lows for  killing  a  man. 

'  Observe,  you  who  now  hear  me,  the  strictness  and 
impartiality  of  justice.  I  know  Giles  to  be  a  worthless 
fellow,  yet  it  is  my  duty  to  take  his  information  ;  I  know 
Jack  Weston  to  l)e  an  honest  youth,  yet  I  must  be  oblig- 
ed to  make  him  pay  the  penalty.  Giles  is  a  bad  man, 
but  he  can  prove  this  fact;  Jack  is  a  worthy  lad,  but 
he  has  committed  this  fault  I  am  sorry  for  you,  Jack  ; 
but  do  not  let  it  grieve  you  that  Giles  has  played  worse 
tricks  a  hundred  times,  and  yet  got  off,  while  you  were 
detected  in  the  very  first  offence,  for  that  would  be 
grieving  because  you  are  not  as  great  a  rogue  as  Giles. 
At  this  moment  you  think  your  good  luck  is  very  une- 
qual ;  but  all  this  will  one  day  turn  out  in  your  favor. 
Giles  is  not  the  more  a  favorite  of  Heaven  because  he 
has  hitherto  escaped  Botany  Bay,  or  the  hulks ;  nor  is  it 
any  mark  of  God's  displeasure  against  you,  John,  that 
you  were  found  out  in  your  very  first  attempt.' 

Here  the  good  justice  left  off  speaking,  and  no  one 
could  contradict  the  truth  of  what  he  had  said.  Westou 
humbly  submitted  to  his  sentence,  but  he  was  very  poor,- 
and  knew  not  where  to  raise  the  money  to  pay  his  fine. 
His  character  had  always  been  so  fair,  that  several  farm- 
ers present  kindly  agreed  to  advance  a  trifle  each  to 
prevent  his  being  sent  to  prison,  and  he  thankfully  pro- 
raised  to  work  out  the  debt  The  justice  himself,  though 
he  could  not  soften  the  law,  yet  showed  Weston  so 


BLACK   GILES.  37 

much  kindness,  that  lie  was  enabled  before  the  year  was 
out,  to  get  out  of  this  difficulty.  He  began  to  think 
more  seriously  than  he  had  ever  yet  done,  and  grew  to 
abhor  poaching,  not  merely  from  fear,  but  from  prin- 
ciple. 

I  think  my  readers  have  by  this  time  become  so  well 
acquainted  with  black  Giles  the  poacher,  that  they  will 
not  expect  to  hear  any  great  good,  either  of  Giles  him- 
self, his  wife  Rachel,  or  any  of  their  family.  I  am  sorry 
to  expose  their  tricks,  but  it  is  their  fault,  not  mine.  If 
1  pretend  to  speak  about  people  at  all,  I  must  tell  the 
truth.  I  am  sure,  if  folks  would  but  turn  about  and 
mend,  it  would  be  a  thousand  times  pleasanter  to  me  to 
write  their  histories ;  for  it  is  no  comfort  to  tell  of  any 
body's  faults.  If  the  world  would  but  grow  good,  I 
should  be  glad  enough  to  publish  it ;  but  till  it  really  be- 
comes so,  I  must  goon  describing  it  as  it  is;  otherwise,  I 
should  only  mislead  my  readers,  instead  of  instructing 
them.  It  is  the  duty  of  a  faithful  historian  to  relate  the 
evil  with  the  good. 

As  to  Giles  and  his  boys,  I  am  sure  old  widow  Brown 
has  good  reason  to  remember  their  dexterity.  Pool- 
woman  !  she  had  a  fine  little  bed  of  onions,  in  her  neat 
and  well-kept  garden  ;  she  was  very  fond  of  her  onions, 
and  many  a  rheumatism  has  she  caught  by  kneeling 
down  to  weed  them  in  a  damp  day,  notwithstanding  the 
little  flannel  cloak  and  the  bit  of  an  old  mat  which 
madam  Wilson  gave  her,  because  the  old  woman  would 
needs  weed  in  wet  weather.  Her  onions  she  always 
carefully  treasured  up  for  her  winter's  store ;  for  an 
onion  makes  a  little  broth  very  relishing,  and  is  indeed 
the  only  savoury  thing  poor  people  are  used  to  get. 
She  had  also  a  small  orchard,  containing  about  a  dozen 
apple-trees,  with  which  in  a  good  year  she  had  been 
4 


,18  BLACK    GILES. 

known  to  make  a  couple  of  barrels  of  cider,  which  she 
sold  to  her  landlord  towards  paying  her  rent,  besides 
having  a  little  keg  which  she  was  able  to  keep  back  for 
her  own  drinking.  Well!  would  you  believe  it,  Gilea 
and  his  boys  marked  both  onions  and  apples  for  their 
own  ;  indeed,  a  man  who  stole  so  many  rabbits  from  the 
warrener,  was  likely  enough  to  steal  onions  for  sauce. 
One  day,  when  the  widow  was  abroad  on  a  little  busi- 
ness, Giles  and  his  boys  made  a  clear  riddance  of  the 
onion  bed ;  and  when  they  had  pulled  up  every  single 
onion,  they  then  turned  a  couple  of  piga  into  the  garden, 
who,  allured  by  the  smell,  tore  up  the  bed  in  such  a 
manner,  that  the  widow,  when  she  came  home,  had  not 
the  least  doubt  but  the  pigs  had  been  the  thieves.  To 
confirm  this  opinion,  they  took  care  to  taave  the  latch 
half  open  at  one  end  of  the  garden,  and  to  break  down  a 
slight  fence  at  the  other  end. 

I  wonder  how  aay  body  can  find  in  his  heart  not  to 
pity  and  respect  poor  old  widows.  There  is  something 
so  forlorn  and  helpless  in  their  condition,  that  methinka 
it  is  a  call  on  every  body,  men,  women,  and  children,  to 
do  them  all  the  kind  services  that  fall  in  their  way. 
Surely  their  having  no  one  to  take  their  part,  is  an  addi- 
tional reason  for  kind-hearted  people  not  to  hurt  and 
oppress  them.  But  it  was  this  very  reason  which  led 
Giles  to  do  this  woman  an  injury.  With  what  a  touch- 
ing simplicity  is  it  recorded  in  Scripture,  of  the  youth 
whom  our  blessed  Savior  raised  from  the  dead,  that  he 
was  the  only  son  of  his  mother,  and  she  a  widow  ! 

It  happened  unluckily  for  poor  widow  Brown  that 
her  cottage  stood  quite  alone.  On  several  mornings 
together,  (for  roguery  gets  up  much  earlier  than  industry,) 
Giles  and  his  boys  stole  regularly  into  her  orchard,  fol- 
lowed by  their  jack-asses.  She  was  so  deaf  that  she 


39 

could  not  hear  the  asses  if  they  had  brayed  ever  so  loud, 
and  to  this  Giles  trusted  ;  lor  lt«  was  very  cautious  in 
his  rogueries;  since  lie  could  not  otherwise  have  con- 
tvived  so  long  to  keep  out  of  prison  }  for  though  he  was 
almost  always  suspected,  he  had  seldom  been  taken  up, 
and  never  convicted.  The  boys  used  to  fill  tlteir  bags, 
load  their  asses,  and  then  inarch  off";  and  if  in  their  way 
to  the  town  where  the  apples  were  to  be  sold  they  chanc- 
ed to  pass  by  one  of  their  neighbors  who  might  be  likely 
to  suspect  them,  they  then  all  at  once  began  to  scream 
out,  '  Buy  my  coal  1 — buy  my  sand  ! ' 

Besides  the  trees  in  her  orchard,  poor  widow  Brown 
had  in  her  small  garden, one  apple-tree  particularly  fine; 
it  was  a  redstreak,  so  tempting  and  so  lovely,  that  Giles's 
family  had  watched  it  with  longing  eyes,  till  at  last  they 
resolved  on  a  plan  for  carrying  off"  all  this  fine  fruit  in 
their  bags.  But  it  was  a  nice  point  to  manage.  The 
tree  stood  directly  under  her  chamber-window,  so  that 
there  was  some  danger  that  she  might  spy  them  at  the 
work.  They  therefore  determined  to  wait  till  the  next 
Sunday  morning,  when  they  knew  she  would  not  fail  to 
be  at  church.  Sunday  came,  and  during  service  Giles 
attended.  It  was  a  lone  house,  as  I  said  before,  and  the 
rest  of  the  parish  were  safe  at  church.  In  a  trice  the 
tree  was  cleared,  the  bags  were  filled,  the  asses  were 
whipped,  the  thieves  were  off,  the  coast  was  clear,  and 
all  was  safe  and  quiet  by  the  time  the  sermon  was  over. 

Unluckily,  however,  it  happened,  that  this  tree  was 
so  beautiful,  and  the  firuit  so  fine,  that  the  people,  as 
they  used  to  pass  to  and  from  the  church,  were  very  apt 
to  stop  and  admire  widow  Brown's  red-streaks :  and 
some  of  the  farmers  rather  envied  her  that  in  that  scarce 
season,  when  they  hardly  expected  to  make  a  pie  out 
of  a  large  orchard,  she  was  likely  to  Tiake  a  cask  of  cider 


40  BLACK     GILES. 

from  a  single  tree.  I  am  afraid,  indeed,  if  I  must  speak 
out,  she  herself  rather  set  her  heart  too  much  upon  this 
fruit,  and  had  felt  as  much  pride  in  her  tree  as  gratitude 
to  a  good  Providence  for  it;  but  this  foiling  of  hers  was 
no  excuse  for  Giles.  The  covetousness  of  this  thief  had 
for  once  got  the  better  of  his  caution  ;  the  tree  was  too 
completely  stripped,  though  the  youngest  boy  Dick  did 
beg  hard  that  his  father  would  leave  the  poor  old  woman 
enough  for  a  few  dumplings;  and  when  Giles  ordered 
Dick  in  his  turn  to  shake  the  tree,  the  boy  did  it  so  gently 
that  hardly  any  apples  fell,  for  which  he  got  a  good  stroke 
of  the  stick  with  which  tlia  old  man  was  beating  down 
the  apples. 

The  neighbors  on  their  return  from  church  stopped  as 
usual,  but  it  was  not,  alas!  to  admire  the  apples,  for 
apples  there  were  none  left,  but  to  lament  the  robbery, 
and  console  the  widow;  meantime  the  red-streaks  were 
safely  lodged  in  Giles's  hovel  under  a  few  bundles  of  new 
hay  which  he  had  contrived  to  pull  from  the  farmer's 
mow  the  night  before,  for  the  use  of  his  "jack-asses. 
Such  a  stir,  however,  began  to  be  made  about  the  wid- 
ow's apple-tree,  that  Giles,  who  knew  how  much  his 
character  had  laid  him  open  to  suspicion,  as  soon  as  he 
saw  the  people  safe  in  church  again  in  the  afternoon, 
ordered  his  lx>ys  to  carry  each  a  hatful  of  the  apples  and 
thrust  them  in  at  a  little  casement  window  which  hap- 
pened to  be  open  in  the  house  of  Samuel  Price,  a  very 
honest  carpenter  in  that  parish,  who  was  at  church  with 
his  whole  family.  Giles's  plan,  by  this  contrivance,  was 
to  lay  the  theft  on  Price's  sons-  in  case  the  thing  should 
come  to  be  further  inquired  into.  Here  Dick  put  in  a 
word,  and  begged  and  prayed  his  father  not  to  force 
them  to  carry  the  apples  to  Price's.  But  all  that  he  got 
by  his  begging  was  such  a  knock  as  had  nearly  laid  him 


BLACK    GILES.  41 

on  the  earth.     'What,  you  cowardly  rascal,' said  Giles, 
you  will  go  and  ''peach,  I  suppose,  and  get  your  father 
sent  to  gaol.' 

Poor  widow  Brown,  though  her  trouble  had  made 
her  still  weaker  than  she  was,  went  to  church  again  in 
the  afternoon:  indeed  she  rightly  thought  that  her  being 
in  trouble  was  a  new  reason  why  she  ought  to  go.  Dur- 
ing the  service  she  tried  with  all  her  might  not  to  think 
of  her  red-streaks,  and  whenever  they  would  come  into 
her  head,  she  took  up  her  prayer-book  directly,  and  so 
she  forgot  them  a  little ;  and  indeed  she  found  herself 
much  easier  when  she  came  out  of  the  church  than 
when  she  went  in  ;  an  effect  so  commonly  produced  by 
prayer,  that  methinks  it  is  a  pity  people  do  not  try  it 
oftener.  Now  it  happened  oddly  enough,  that  on  that 
Sunday,  of  all  the  Sundays  in  the  year,  the  widow 
should  call  in  to  rest  a  little  at  Samuel  Price's,  to  tell 
over  again  the  lamentable  story  of  the  apples,  and  to 
consult  with  him  how  the  thief  might  be  brought  to 
justice.  But  O,  reader!  guess  if  you  can,  for  I  am  sure 
I  cannot  tell  you,  what  was  her  surprise,  when,  on  going 
into  Samuel  Price's  kitchen,  she  saw  her  own  red- 
streaks  lying  on  the  window!  The  apples  were  of  a  sort 
too  remarkable,  for  color,  shape,  and  size,  to  be  mistaken. 
There  was  not  such  another  tree  in  the  parish.  Widow 
Brown  immediately  screamed  out,  *  Alas-a-day  !  as  sure 
as  can  be,  here  are  my  red-streaks ;  I  could  swear  to 
them  in  any  court.'  Samuel  Price,  who  believed  his 
sons  to  be  as  honest  as  himself,  was  shocked  and  troub- 
led at  the  sight.  He  knew  he  had  no  red-streaks  of  his 
own,  he  knew  there  were  no  apples  in  the  window 
when  he  went  to  church:  he  did  verily  believe  these 
apples  to  be  the  widow's.  But  how  they  came  there  he 
could  not  possibly  guess.  He  called  for  Tom.  the  only 
4* 


42  BLACK     GILES. 

one  of  bis  sons  who  now  lived  at  home.  Tom  was  at 
the  Sunday-school,  which  he  had  never  once  missed 
since  Mr.  Wilson  the  minister  had  set  up  one  in  the 
parish.  Was  such  a  hoy  likely  to  do  such  a  deed ! 

A  crowd  was  by  this  time  got  about  Price's  door, 
among  which  were  Giles  and  his  boys,  who  had  already 
taken  care  to  spread  the  news  that  Tom  Price  was  the 
thief.  Most  people  were  unwilling  to  believe  it.  His 
character  was  very  good,  but  appearances  were  strongly 
against  him.  Mr.  |t\Tilson,  who  had  staid  to  christen  a 
child,  now  came  in.  He  was  much  concerned  that 
Tom  Price,  the  best  boy  ia  his  school,  should  stand  ac- 
cused of  such  a  crime.  He  sent  for  the  boy,  examined, 
and  cross-examined  him. — No  marks  of  guilt  appeared. 
But  still  though  l>e  pleaded  not  guilty  f  there  lay  the  red- 
streaks  in  his  fathers  window.  All  the  idle  fellows  in 
the  place,  who  were  most  likely  to  have  committed  such 
a  theft  themselves,  were  the  very  people  who  fell  with 
vengeance  on  poor  Tom.  The  wicked  seldom  give 
any  quarter,  'This  is  oae  of  your  sanctified  ones!* 
cried  they.  '  This  was  all  the  good  that  Sundtiy-schools 
did  !  For  their  parts  they  never  saw  any  good  come  by 
religion.  Sunday  was  the  only  day  for  a  little  pastime, 
and  if  poor  boys  must  be  shut  up  with  their  godly  books,, 
when  they  ought  to  be  out  taking  a  little  pleasure,  it  was 
no  wonder  they  made  lli.'in.  i-lves  amends  by  such  tricks/ 
Another  said  he  should  like  to  see  parson  Wilson's  right- 
eous one  well  whipped.  A  third  hoped  he  would  be- 
clapped  in  the  stocks  for  a  young  hypocrite  as  he  was  ; 
while  old  Giles,  who  thought  the  only  way  to  avoid 
suspicion  was  by  being  more  violent  than  the  rest,  de- 
clared, '  that  he  hoped  the  young  dog  would  be  trans- 
ported for  life.' 

Mr.  Wilson  was  too  wise  and  too  just  to  proceed 


BLACK    GILES.  43 

against  Tom  without  full  proof. — He  declared  the  crime 
was  a  very  heavy  one,  and  he  feared  that  heavy  must 
be  the  punishment.  Tom,  who  knew  his  own  inno- 
cence, earnestly  prayed  to  God  that  it  might  be  made  to 
appear  as  clear  as  the  noon-day  ;  and  very  fervent  were 
his  secret  devotions  on  that  night. 

Black  Giles  passed  his  night  in  a  very  different  man- 
ner. He  set  off  as  soon  as  it  was  dark,  with  his  sons 
and  then  jack-asses,  laden  with  their  stolen  goods.  As 
such  a  cry  was  raised  about  the  apples,  he  did  not  think 
it  safe  to  keep  them  longer  at  home,  but  resolved  to  go 
and  sell  them  at  the  next  town ;  borrowing  without 
leave  a  lame  colt  out  of  the  moor  to  assist  in  carrying  off 
his  booty. 

Giles  and  his  eldest  sons  had  rare  sport  all  the  way  in 
thinking,  that  while  they  were  enjoying  the  profit  of  their 
plunder,  Tom  Price  would  be  whipt  round  the  market 
place  at  least,  if  not  sent  beyond  sea.  But  the  younger 
boy  Dick,  who  had  naturally  a  tender  heart,  though 
hardened  by  his  long  familiarity  with  sin,  could  not  help 
-n-ying,  when  he  thought  that  Tom  Price  might,  perhaps, 
l>e  transported  for  a  crime  which  he  himself  had  helped 
to  commit.  He  had  had  no  compunction  about  the 
robbery,  for  he  had  not  been  instructed  in  the  great 
principles  of  truth  and  justice  ;  nor  would  he  therefore, 
perhaps,  have  had  much  remorse  about  accusing  an 
innocent  boy.  But,  though  utterly  devoid  of  principle, 
he  had  some  remains  of  natural  feeling  and  of  gratitude. 
Tom  Price  had  often  given  him  a  bit  of  his  own  bread 
and  cheese ;  and  once,  when  Dick  was  like  to  be  drowned, 
Tom  had  jumped  into  the  pond  with  his  clothes  on,  and 
saved  his  life  when  he  was  just  sinking ;  the  remem- 
brance of  all  this  made  his  heart  heavy.  He  said  noth- 
ing ;  but  as  he  trotted  barefoot  after  the  asses,  he  heard 


44  BLACK     GILES. 

his  father  and  brothers  laugh  at  having;  outwitted  the 
godly  ones;  and  he  grieved  to  think  how  poor  Tom 
would  suffer  for  his  wickedness,  yet  fear  kept  him  silent ; 
they  called  him  a  sulky  dog,  and  lashed  the  asses  till 
they  bled. 

In  the  meantime  Tom  Price  kept  up  his  spirits  as  well 
as  he  could.  He  worked  hard  all  day,  and  prayed  hearti- 
ly night  and  morning.  It  is  true,  said  he  to  himself,  I 
am  not  guilty  of  this  sin ;  but  let  this  accusation  set  me 
on  examining  myself,  and  truly  repenting  of  all  my  other 
sins;  for  I  find  enough  to  repent  of,  though  I  thank  God 
I  did  not  steal  the  widow's  apples. 

At  length  Sunday  came^  and  Tom  went  to  school  as 
usual.  As  soon  as  he  walked  in  there  was  a  great  deal 
of  whispering  and  laughing  among  the  worst  of  the 
boys ;  and  he  overheard  them  say,  '  Who  would  have 
thought  it?  This  is  master's  favorite ! — This  is  parson 
Wilson's  sober  Tommy !  We  shan't  have  Tommy 
thrown  in  our  teeth  again  if  we  go  to  get  a  bird's  nest,  or 
gather  a  few  nuts  on  a  Sunday.'  'Your  demure  ones 
are  always  hypocrites,'  says  another. — '  The  still  pig 
gets  all  the  milk,'  says  a  third. 

Giles's  family  had  always  kept  clear  of  the  school. 
Dick,  indeed,  had  sometimes  wished  to  go  ;  not  that  he 
had  much  sense  of  sin,  or  desire  after  goodness,  but  he 
thought  if  he  could  once  read,  he  might  rise  in  the 
world,  and  not  be  forced  to  drive  asses  all  his  life. 
Through  this  whole  Saturday  night  he  could  not  sleep. 
He  longed  to  know  what  would  be  done  to  Tom.  He 
began  to  wish  to  go  to  school,  but  he  had  not  courage  ; 
sin  is  very  cowardly.  So  on  the  Sunday  morning  he 
went  and  sat  himself  down  under  the  church  wall.  Mr. 
Wilson  passed  by.  It  was  not  his  way  to  reject  the 
most  wicked,  till  he  had  tried  every  means  to  bring  them 


BLACK     GILES.  45 

over;  and  even  th3n  he  pitied  and  prayed  for  them. — 
lie  had,  indeed,  long  left  off  talking  to  Giles's  sons ;  but 
seeing  Dick  sitting  by  himself,  he  once  more  spoke  to 
him,  desired  him  to  leave  off  his  vagabond  life,  and  go 
with  him  into  the  school.  The  boy  hung  down  his 
}>ead,  but  made  no  answer.  He  did  not,  however,  either 
rise  up  and  run  away,  or  look  sulky,  as  he  used  to  do. 
The  minister  desired  him  once  more  to  go.  '  Sir,'  said 
the  boy,  '  I  can't  go ;  I  am  so  big  I  am  ashamed.'  '  The 
bigger  you  are  the  less  time  you  have  to  lose.'  '  But, 
sir,  I  can't  read.'  '  Tjien  it  is  high  time  you  should 
learn.'  '  I  should  be  ashamed  to  begin  to  learn  my  let- 
ters.' 'The  shame  is  not  in  beginning  to  learn  them, 
but  in  being  contented  never  to  know  them.' — '  But,  sir, 
I  am  so  ragged  ! '  '  God  looks  at  the  heart,  and  not  at 
the  coat.'  'But,  sir,  I  have  no  shoes  atyl  stockings.'  'So 
much  the  worse.  I  remember  who  gave  you  both — 
(Here  Dick  colored.)  It  is  bad  to  want  shoes  and  stock- 
inirs,  but  still  if  you  can  drive  your  asses  a  dozen  miles 
without  them,  you  may  certainly  walk  a  hundred  yards 
to  school  without  them.'  'But,  sir,  the  good  boys  will 
hate  me,  and  won't  speak  to  me.' — '  Good  boys  hate  no- 
body ;  and  as  to  not  speaking  to  you,  to  be  sure  they 
will  not  keep  your  company  while  you  go  on  in  your 
present  evil  courses,  but  as  soon  as  they  see  you  wish  to 
reform,  they  Avill  help  you,  and  pity  you,  and  teach  you  ; 
and  so  come  along.' — Here  Mr.  Wilson  took  this  dirty 
boy  by  the  hand,  and  gently  pulled  him  forward,  kindly 
talking  to  him  all  the  way,  in  the  most  condescending 
manner. 

How  the  whole  school  stared  to  see  Dick  Giles  come 
in !  No  one,  however,  dared  to  say  what  he  thought. 
The  business  went  on,  and  Dick  slunk  into  a  corner, 
partly  to  hide  his  rags,  and  partly  to  hide  his  sin ;  for 


46  BLACK    GILES. 

last  Sunday's  transaction  sat  heavy  on  his  heart,  not  be- 
cause he  had  stolen  the  apples,  but  because  Tom  Price 
had  been  accused.  This,  I  say,  made  him  slink  behind. 
Poor  boy!  he  little  thought  there  was  OXE  saw  him 
who  sees  all  things,  and  from  whose  eye  no  hole  nor 
corner  can  hide  the  sinner  ;  '  for  He  is  about  our  bed, 
and  about  our  path,  and  spieth  out  all  our  ways.' 

It  was  the  custom  in  that  school,  and  an  excellent 
custom  it  is,  for  the  master,  who  was  a  good  and  wise 
man,  to  mark  down  in  his  pocket-book  all  the  events  of 
the  week,  that  he  might  turn  them  to  some  account  in 
his  Sunday  evening  instructions ;  such  as  any  useful 
story  in  the  newspaper,  any  account  of  boys  being 
drowned  as  they  were  out  in  a  pleasure-boat  on  Sundays, 
any  sudden  death  in  the  parish,  or  any  other  remarkable 
visitation  of  Providence;  insomuch,  that  many  young 
people  in  the  place,  who  did  not  belong  to  the  school, 
and  many  parents  also,  used  to  drop  in  for  an  hour  on  a 
Sunday  evening,  when  they  were  sure  to  hear  something 
profitable.  The  minister  greatly  approved  this  practice, 
and  often  called  in  himself,  which  was  a  great  support 
to  the  master,  and  encouragement  to  the  people  who 
attended. 

The  master  had  taken  a  deep  concern  in  the  story  of 
widow  Brown's  apple  tree.  He  could  not  believe  Tom 
Price  was  guilty,  nor  dared  he  pronounce  him  innocent: 
but  he  resolved  to  turn  the  instructions  of  the  present 
evening  to  this  subject.  He  began  thus:  'My  dear  boys, 
however  light  some  of  you  may  make  of  robbing  an 
orchard,  yet  I  have  often  told  you  there  is  no  such  thing 
as  a  little  sin,  if  it  be  wilful  or  habitual.  I  Avish  now  to 
explain  to  you,  also,  that  there  is  hardly  such  a  thing  as 
a  single  solitary  sin.  You  know  I  teach  you  not  merely 
to  repeat  the  commandments  as  an  exercise  for  your 


BLACK     GILES.  47 

memory,  but  as  ft  rule  for  your  conduct.  If  you  were 
to  come  here  only  to  learn  to  read  and  spell  on  a  Sunday, 
I  should  think  that  was  not  employing  God's  day  for 
God's  works;  but  I  teach  you  to  read  that  you  may,  by 
this  means,  come  so  to  understand  the  Bible  and  the 
Catechism,  as  to  make  every  text  in  the  one,  and  every 
question  and  answer  in  the  other,  to  be  so  fixed  in  your 
hearts,  that  they  may  bring  forth  in  you  the  fruits  of 
good  living.' 

Master.     How  many  commandments  are  there  ? 

Boy.    Ten. 

Master.  How  many  commandments  did  that  boy 
break  who  stole  widow  Brown's  apples? 

Boy.  Only  one,  master  ;  the  eighth. 

Master.  What  is  the  eighth  ? 

Boy.  Thou  shalt  not  steal. 

Master.  And  you  are  very  sure  that  this  was  the  only 
one  he  broke?  Now  suppose  I  cou'cl  prove  to  you  that 
he  probably  broke  not  less  than  six  out  of  those  ten 
commandments,  which  the  great  Lord  of  heaven  him- 
self stooped  down  from  his  eternal  glory  to  deliver  to 
men,  would  you  not,  then,  think  it  a  terrible  thing  to 
steal,  whether  apples  or  guineas  ? 

Boy.  Yes,  master. 

Master.  I  will  put  the  case.  Some  wicked  boy  has 
robbed  widow  Brown's  orchard.  (Here  the  eyes  of 
every  one  were  turned  on  poor  Tom  Price,  except  those 
of  Dick  Giles,  who  fixed  his  on  the  ground.)  I  accuse 
no  one,  continued  the  master,  Tom  Price  is  a  good  boy 
and  was  not  missing  at  the  time  of  the  robbery ;  these 
are  two  reasons  why  I  presume  that  he  is  innocent ;  but 
whoever  it  was,  you  allow  that  by  stealing  these  apples 
he  broke  the  eighth  commandment  ? 

Bojf.  Yes,  master, 


48  «LACK     GILES, 

Master.  On  what  day  were  these  apples  stolen  ? 

Boy.  On  Sunday. 

Master.  What  is  the  fourth  commandment? 

Boy.  Thou  shall  keep  holy  the  Sahhath-day. 

Master.  Does  that  person  keep  holy  the  Sabhatn-day 
who  loiters  in  an  orchard  on  Sunday,  when  he  snould 
be  at  church,  and  steals  apples  when  he  ought  to  be  say- 
ing his  prayers? 

Boy.  No,  Master. 

Master.  What  command  does  he  break  ? 

Boy.  The  fourth. 

Master.  Suppose  this  boy  had  parents  who  had  sent 
him  to  church,  and  that  he  had  disobeyed  them  by  not 
going,  would  that  be  keeping  the  fifth  commandment  ? 

Boy.  No,  master;  for  the  fifth  commandment  says, 
Thou  sJmlt  honor  thy  father  and  thy  mother. 

This  was  the  only  part  of  the  case  in  which  poor 
Dick  Giles's  heart  did  not 'smite  him  ;  he  knew  he  had 
disobeyed  no  father;  for  his  father,  alas !  was  still  wick- 
eder than  himself,  and  had  brought  him  up  to  commit 
the  sin.  But  what  a  wretched  comfort  was  this  ?  The 
master  went  on. 

Master.  Suppose  this  boy  earnestly  coveted  this  fruit, 
though  it  belonged  to  another  person,  would  that  be 
right  ? 

Boy.  No,  master ;  for  the  tenth  commandment  says, 
Thou  shalt  not  covet. 

Master.  Very  well.  Here  are  four  of  God's  positive 
commands  already  broken.  Now  do  you  think  thieves 
ever  scruple  to  use  wicked  words  ? 

Boy.  I  am  afraid  not,  master. 

Here  Dick- Giles  was  not  so  hardened  but  that  he 
remembered  how  many  curses  had  passed  between  him 
and  his  father  while  they  were  filling  the  bags,  and  he 
was  afraid  to  look  up.  Thf  mnstor  wont  on. 


BtACK   GILES.  49 

1  will  now  go  one  step  further.  If  the  thief,  to  all  his 
other  sins,  has  added  that  of  accusing  the  innocent  to 
save  himself,  if  he  should  break  the  ninth  commandment, 
by  bearing  false  witness  against  a  harmless  neighbor,  then 
six  commandments  are  broken  for  an  apple  !  But  if  it 
be  otherwise,  if  Tom  Price  should  be  found  guilty,  it  is 
not  his  good  character  shall  save  him.  I  shall  shed  tears 
over  him,  hut  punish  him  I  must,  and  that  severely. 
'  No,  that  you  shan't,'  roared  out  Dick  Giles,  who  sprung 
from  his  hiding  place,  fell  on  his  knees,  and  burst  out  a 
crying,  '  Tom  Price  is  as  good  a  boy  as  ever  lived  ;  it 
was  father  and  I  who  stole  the  apples  ! ' 

It  would  have  done  your  heart  good  to  have  seen  the 
joy  of  the  master,  the  modest  blushes  of  Tom  Price,  and 
the  satisfaction  of  every  honest  boy  in  the  school.  All 
shook  hands  with  Tom,  and  even  Dick  got  some  portion 
of  pity.  1  wish  I  had  room  to  give  my  readers  the 
moving  exhortation  which  the  master  gave.  But  while 
Mr.  Wilson  left  the  guilty  boy  to  the  management  of  the 
master,  he  thought  it  became  him,  as  a  minister  and  a 
magistrate,  to  go  to  the  extent  of  the  law  in  punishing 
the  father.  Early  on  the  Monday  morning  he  sent  to 
apprehend  Giles.  In  the  meantime  Mr.  Wilson  was 
sent  for  to  a  gaidoner's  house  two  miles  distant,  to  attend 
a  man  who  was  dying.  This  was  a  duty  to  which  all 
others  gave  way  in  his  mind.  He  set  out  directly  ;  but 
what  was  his  surprise,  on  his  arrival,  to  see,  on  a  little 
bed  on  the  floor,  poaching  Giles  lying  in  all  the  agonies 
of  death  !  Jack  Weston,  the  same  poor  young  man 
against  whom  Giles  had  informed  for  killing  a  hare,  was 
kneeling  by  him,  offering  him  some  broth,  and  talking 
to  him  in  the  kindest  manner.  Mr.  Wilson  begged  to 
know  the  meaning  of  all  this ;  and  Jack  Weston  spoke 
as  follows: 


50 


BLACK 


'At  four  n<  the  morning,  ns  I  was  going  out  to  mow, 
passing  under  the  high  wall  of  this  garden,  I  heard  a 
most  dismal  moaning.  The  nearer  I  came  the  more 
dismal  it  grew.  At  last,  who  should  I  see  but  poor  Giles 
groaning,  and  struggling  under  a  quantity  of  bricks  and 
stones,  but  not  able  to  stir.  The  day  before  he  had  marked 
a  fine  large  net  on  this  old  wall,  and  resolved  to  steal  it, 
for  he  thought  it  might  do  as  well  to  catch  partridges  aa 
to  preserve  cherries ;  so,  sir,  standing  on  the  very  top  of 
this  wall,  and  tugging  with  all  his  might  to  loosen  the  net 
from  the  hooks  which  fastened  it,  down  came  Giles,  net, 
wall,  and  all ;  for  the  wall  was  gone  to  decay.  It  was 
very  kigh  indeed,  and  poor  Giles  not  only  broke  his 
thigh,  but  has  got  a  terrible  blow  on  his  head,  and  is 
bruised  all  over  like  a  mummy.  On  seeing  me,  sir,  poor 
Giles  cried  out,  "  Oh,  Jack !  I  did  try  to  ruin  thee  by 
lodging  that  information,  and  now  thou  wilt  be  revenged 
by  letting  me  lie  here  and  perish."  "  God  forbid,  Giles! 
cried  I ;  thou  shall  see  what  sort  of  revenge  a  Christian 
takes."  So,  sir,  I  sent  oft'  the  gardener's  boy  to  fetch  a 
surgeon,  while  I  scampered  home  and  brought  on  my 
back  this  bit  of  a  hammock,  which  is  indeed  my  own 
bed,  and  put  Giles  upon  it .  we  then  lifted  him  up,  bed 
and  all,  as  tenderly  as  if  he  had  been  a  gentleman,  and 
brought  him  in  here.  My  wife  has  just  brought  him  a 
drop  of  nice  broth ;  and  now,  sir,  as  I  have  done  what  I 
could  for  this  poor  perishing  body,  it  was  I  who  took  the 
liberty  to  send  to  you  to  come  to  try  to  help  his  poor 
soul,  for  the  doctor  says  he  can't  live.' 

Mr.  Wilson  could  not  help  saying  to  himself,  Such  an 
action  as  this  is  worth  a  whole  volume  of  comments  on 
that  precept  of  our  blessed  Master,  Love  your  cntmies; 
do  good  to  them  that  hate  you.  Giles's  dying  groans  con- 
firmed the  sad  account  Weston  had  just  given.  The 


BtAGK    GILES.  81 

poor  wretch  rould  neither  pn;y  himself  nor  attend  to  the 
minister.  He  could  only  cry  out,  'Oh!  sir,  what  will 
become  of  me?  I  don't  know  how  to  repent.  O  my 
poor  wicked  children !  Sir,  I  have  bred  them  all  up  in 
sin  and  ignorance.  Have  mercy  on  them,  sir ;  let  me 
not  meet  them  in  the  place  of  torment  to  which  I  am 
going.  Lord  grant  them  that  time  for  repentance  which 
I  have  thrown  away  ! '  He  languished  a  few  days,  and 
died  in  great  misery: — a  fresh  and  sad  instance  that 
people  who  abuse  the  grace  of  God  and  resist  his  Spirit, 
find  it  difficult  to  repent  when  they  will. 

Except  the  minister  and  Jack  Weston,  no  one  came 
to  see  poor  Giles,  besides  Tommy  Price,  who  had  been 
so  sadly  wronged  by  him.  Tom  often  brought  him  his 
own  rice-milk  or  apple-dumpling ;  and  Giles,  ignorant 
and  depraved  as  he  was,  often  cried  out, '  That  he  thought 
now  there  must  be  some  truth  in  religion,  since  it  taught 
even  a  boy  to  deny  himself,  and  to  forgive  an  injury. 
Mr.  Wilson  the  next  Sunday,  made  a  moving  discourse 
on  the  danger  of  what  are  called  petty  offences.  This, 
together  with  the  awful  death  of  Giles,  produced  such 
an  effect,  that  no  poacher  has  been  able  to  show  his 
head  in  that  parish  ever  since. 

TAW  NET  RACHEL,  was  the  wife  of  poaching  Giles. 
There  seemed  to  be  a  conspiracy  in  Giles's  whole  fami- 
ly to  maintain  themselves  by  tricks  and  pilfering.  Reg- 
ular labor  and  honest  industry  did  not  suit  their  idle 
habits.  They  had  a  sort  of  genius  at  finding  out  every 
unlawful  means  to  support  a  vagabond  life.  Rachel 
travelled  the  country  with  a  basket  on  her  arm.  She 
pretended  to  get  her  bread  by  selling  laces,  cabbage-nets, 
ballads  and  history  books,  and  used  to  buy  old  rags  and 
rabbit  skins.  Many  honest  people  trade  in  these  things, 


52  BLACK    GILES. 

and  I  am  sure  I  do  not  mean  to  say  a  word  against 
honest  people,  let  them  trade  in  what  they  will  But 
Rachel  only  made  this  traffic  a  pretence  for  getting  ad- 
mittance into  farmers'  kitchens  in  order  to  tell  fortunes. 

She  was  continually  practising  on  the  credulity  of 
silly  girls;  and  took  advantage  of  their  ignorance  to 
cheat  and  deceive  them.  Many  an  innocent  servant  has 
she  caused  to  be  suspected  of  a  robbery,  while  she  her- 
self, perhaps,  was  in  league  with  the  thief.  Many  a 
harmless  maid  has  she  brought  to  ruin  by  first  contriving 
plots  and  events  herself,  and  then  pretending  to  foretell 
them.  She  had  not,  to  be  sure,  the  power  of  really  for- 
telling  things,  because  she  had  no  power  of  seeing  into 
futurity  :  but  she  had  the  art  sometimes  to  bring  them 
about  according  as  she  foretold  them.  So  she  got  that 
credit  for  her  wisdom  which  really  belonged  to  her 
wickedness. 

Rachel  was  also  a  famous  interpreter  of  dreams,  and 
could  distinguish  exactly  between  the  fate  of  any  two 
persons  who  happened  to  have  a  mole  on  the  right  or 
the  left  cheek>  She  had  a  cunning  way  of  getting  her- 
self off  when  any  of  her  prophecies  failed.  When  she 
explained  a  dream  according  to  the  natural  appearance 
of  things,  and  it  did  not  come  to  pass;  then  she  would 
get  out  of  that  scrape  by  saying,  that  this  sort  of  dreams 
went  by  Contraries.  Now  of  two  very  opposite  things, 
the  chance  always  is  that  one  of  them  may  turn  out  to 
be  true  ;  so  in  either  case  she  kept  up  the  cheat. 

Rachel,  in  one  of  her  rambles,  stopped  at  the  house  of 
farmer  Jenkins.  She  contrived  to  call  when  she  knew 
the  master  of  the  house  was  from  home,  which  indeed 
was  her  usual  way.  She  knocked  at  the  door;  the 
maids  being  in  the  field  haymaking,  Mrs.  Jenkins  went 
to  open  it  herself.  Rachel  asked  her  if  she  won  hi  please 


BLACK    GILES.  DO 

to  let  her  light  her  pipe?  This  was  a  common  pretence, 
when  she  could  find  no  other  way  of  getting  into  a 
house.  While  she  was  filling  her  pipe,  she  looked  at 
Mrs.  Jenkins,  and  said,  she  could  tell  her  some  good 
fortune.  The  farmer's  wile,  who  was  a  very  inoffensive, 
but  a  weak  and  superstitious  woman,  was  curious  to 
know  what  she  meant.  Rachel  then  looked  about  care- 
fully, and  shutting  the  door  with  a  mysterious  air,  asked 
her  if  she  was  sure  nobody  would  hear  them.  This  ap- 
pearance of  mystery  was  at  once  delightful  and  terrifying 
to  Mi's.  Jenkins,  who,  with  trembling  agitation,  bid  the 
cunning  woman  speak  out. 

'  Then,'  said  Rachel  in  a  solemn  whisper,  '  there  is  to 
my  certain  knowledge  a  pot  of  money  hid  under  one  of 
the  stones  in  your  cellar.' 

'  Indeed !'  said  Mrs.  Jenkins,  '  it  is  impossible,  for  now 
I  think  of  it,  I  dreamt  last  night  I  was  in  prison  for  debt.' 

'Did  you  really  ?'  said  Rachel;  'that  is  quite  surpris- 
ing. Did  yon  dream  this  before  twelve  o'clock  or  after  ? ' 

O  it  was  this  morning,  just  before  I  awoke. 

'Then  I  am  sure  it  is  true,  for  morning  dreams  always 
go  by  contraries,'  cried  Rachel. 

'  How  lucky  it  was  you  dreamt  it  so  late.' 

Mrs.  Jenkins  could  hardly  contain  her  joy,  and  asked 
how  the  money  was  to  be  come  at. 

'  There  is  but  one  way,'  said  Rachel ;  '  I  must  go  into 
the  cellar.  I  know  by  my  art  under  which  stone  it  lies, 
but  I  must  not  tell.' 

Then  they  both  went  down  into  the  cellar,  but  Rachel 
refused  to  point  at  the  stone  unless  Mrs.  Jenkins  would 
put  five  pieces  of  gold  into  a  basin  and  do  as  she  directed. 
The  simple  woman,  instead  of  turning  her  out  of  doors 
for  a  cheat,  did  as  she  was  bid.  She  put  the  guineas 
into  a  basin  which  she  gave  into  Rachel's  hand.  Rachel 
5* 


O1!  ULACK     GILES. 

strewed  some  white  powder  over  the  gold,  muttered 
some  barbarous  words,  and  pretended  to  perform  the 
black  art  She  then  told  Mrs.  Jenkins  to  put  the  basin 
quietly  down  within  the  cellar;  telling  her  that  if  she 
offered  to  look  into  it,  or  even  to  speak  a  word,  the 
charm  would  be  broken.  She  also  directed  her  to  lock 
the  cellar  door,  and  on  no  pretence  to  open  it  in  less  than 
forty-eight  hours.  '  If,'  added  she,  '  you  closely  follow 
these  directions,  then,  by  the  power  of  my  art,  you  will 
find  the  basin  conveyed  to  the  very  stone  under  which 
the  money  lies  hid,  and  a  fine  treasure  it  be !'  Mrs.  Jen- 
kins, who  firmly  believed  every  word  the  woman  said, 
did  exactly  as  she  was  told,  and  Rachel  took  her  leave 
with  a  handsome  reward. 

When  farmer  Jenkins  came  home  he  desired  his  wife 
to  draw  him  a  cup  of  cider  ;  this  she  put  oft' so  long  that 
he  began  to  be  displeased.  At  last  she  begged  he  would 
be  so  good  as  to  drink  a  little  beer  instead.  He  insisted 
on  knowing  the  reason,  and  when  at  last  he  grew  angry, 
she  told  him  all  that  had  passed  ;  and  owned  that  as  the 
pot  of  gold  happened  to  be  in  the  cider  cellar,  she  did 
not  dare  open  the  door,  as  she  was  sure  it  would  break 
the  charm.  'And  it  would  be  a  pity  you  know,'  said 
she,  'to  lose  a  good  fortune  for  the  sake  of  a  draught  of 
cider.'  The  farmer,  who  was  not  so  easily  imposed 
upon,  suspected  a  trick.  He  demanded  the  key,  and 
went  and  opened  the  cellar  door ;  there  he  found  the 
basin,  and  in  it  five  round  pieces  of  tin  covered  with 
powder.  Mrs.  Jenkins  burst  out  a-crying;  but  the 
fanner  thought  of  nothing  but  of  getting  a  warrant  to 
apprehend  the  cunning  woman.  Indeed  she  well  proved 
her  claim  to  that  name,  when  she  insisted  that  the  cellar 
door  might  be  kept  locked  till  she  had  time  to  get  out  of 
the  reach  of  all  pursuit. 


BLACK     GfJLES. 


Poor  Sally  Evans!  I  am  sure  she  rued  the  day  that 
ever  she  listened  to  a  fortune-teller.  Sally  was  as  harm- 
less a  girl  as  ever  lived  ;  but  Sally  was  credulous,  igno- 
rant, and  superstitious.  She  delighted  in  dream-books, 
and  had  consulted  all  the  cunning  women  in  the  country 
to  tell  her  whether  the  two  moles  on  her  cheek  denoted 
that  she  was  to  have  two  husbands,  or  two  children. 
If  she  picked  up  an  old  horse-shoe  going  to  church,  she 
was  sure  that  would  be  a  lucky  week.  She  never  made 
ka  black-pudding  without  borrowing  an  old  wig  to  hang 
in  the  chimney,  firmly  believing  there  was  no  other 
means  to  preserve  them  from  burning.  She  would 
never  go  to  bed  on  Midsummer  eve  without  sticking  up 
in  her  room  the  well-known  plant  called  Midsummer- 
men,  as  the  bending  of  the  leaves  to  the  right  or  to  the 
left,  would  not  fail  to  tell  her  whether  Jacob,  of  whom 
we  shall  speak  presently,  was  true  or  false.  She  would 
raiuer  go  five  miles  about  than  pass  near  a  church-yard 
at  night.  Every  seventh  year  she  would  not  eat  beans 
because  they  grew  downward  in  the  [>od,  instead  of  up- 
ward ;  and,  though  a  very  neat  girl,  she  would  rather 
have  gone  with  her  gown  open,  than  have  taken  a  pin 
from  an  old  woman,  for  fear  of  being  bewitched.  Poor 
Sally  had  so  many  unlucky  days  in  her  calendar,  that  a 
large  portion  of  her  time  became  of  little  use,  because  on 
these  days  she  did  not  dare  set  about  any  new  work. 
And  she  would  have  refused  the  best  offer  in  the  country 
if  made  to  her  on  a  Friday,  which  she  thought  so  un- 
lucky a  day  that  she  often  said  what  a  pity  it  was  that 
there  were  any  Friday  in  the  week.  Sally  had  twenty 
pounds  left  her  by  her  grandmother.  She  had  long 
been  courted  by  Jacob,  a  sober  lad,  with  whom  she 
lived  fellow  servant  at  a  creditable  farmer's.  Honest 
Jacob,  like  his  namesake  of  old,  thought  it  little  to  wait 


56  BLACK    GILES. 

seven  years  to  get  this  damsel  to  wife,  because  of  the 
love  he  bore  her,  for  Sally  had  promised  to  marry  him 
when  he  could  match  her  twenty  pounds  with  another 
of  his  own. 

Now  there  was  one  Robert,  a  rambling  idle  young 
gardener,  who,  instead  of  sitting  down  steadily  in  one 
place,  used  to  roarn  about  the  country,  and  do  odd  jobs 
where  he  could  get  them.  No  one  understood  any 
thing  about  him,  except  that  he  was  a  down-looking 
fellow,  who  came  nobody  knew  whence,  and  got  his 
bread  nobody  knew  how,  and  never  had  a  penny  in  his 
pocket.  Robert,  who  was  now  in  the  neighborhood, 
happened  to  hear  of  Sally  Evans  and  her  twenty  pounds. 
He  immediately  conceived  a  longing  desire  for  the  latter 
So  he  went  to  his  old  friend  Rachel  the  fortune-teller, 
told  her  all  he  had  heard  of  Sally,  and  promised  if  she 
could  bring  about  a  marriage  between  them,  she  should 
go  shares  in  the  money. 

Rachel  undertook  the  business.  She  set  off  to  the 
farm-house,  and  fell  to  singing  one  of  her  most  enticing 
songs  just  under  the  dairy  window.  Sally  was  so  struck 
with  the  pretty  tune,  which  was  unhappily  used,  as  is 
too  often  the  case,  to  set  off  some  very  loose  words,  that 
she  jumped  up,  dropped  the  skimmer  into  the  cream  and 
ran  out  to  buy  the  song.  While  she  stooped  down  to 
rummage  the  basket  for  those  songs  which  had  the  most 
tragical  pictures  (for  Sally  had  a  tender  heart,  and  de- 
lighted in  whatever  was  mournful)  Rachel  looked  stead- 
fastly in  her  face,  and  told  her  she  knew  by  art  that  she 
was  born  to  good  fortune,  but  advised  her  not  to  throw 
herself  away.  '  These  two  moles  on  your  cheek,'  added 
she,  '  show  you  are  in  some  danger.' 

'  Do  they  denote  husbands  or  children  ?  '  cried  Sally, 
starling  up,  and  letting  fall  the  song  of  the  Children  in 
the  Wood. 


57 

'  Husbands,'  muttered  Rachel. 

'Alas!  poor  Jacob!'  said  Sally,  mournfully, 'then  he 
will  die  first,  won't  he  ?' 

'Mum  for  that,' quoth  the  fortune-teller,  'I  will  say 
no  more.' 

Sally  was  impatient,  but  the  more  curiosity  she  dis- 
covered, the  more  mystery  Rachel  affected.  At  last,  she 
said, '  if  you  will  cross  my  hand  with  a  piece  of  silver,  I 
will  tell  your  fortune.  By  the  power  of  my  art  I  can  do 
this  three  ways  ;  first  by  cards,  next  by  the  lines  on  your 
hand,  or  by  turning  a  cup  of  tea  grounds;  which  will 
you  have  ? ' 

'O,  all!  all!'  cried  Sally,  looking  up  with  reverence 
to  this  sun-burnt  oracle  of  wisdom,  who  was  possessed 
of  no  less  than  three  different  ways  of  diving  into  the 
secrets  of  futurity.  Alas!  persons  of  better  sense  than 
Sally  have  been  so  taken  in  ;  the  more  is  the  pity 

The  poor  girl  said  she  would  run  up  stairs  to  her 
little  box  where  she  kept  her  money  tied  up  in  a  bit  of 
an  old  glove,  and  would  bring  down  a  bright  queen 
Ann's  sixpence  very  crooked.  '  I  am  sure,'  added  she, 
'  it  is  a  lucky  one,  for  it  cured  me  of  a  very  bad  ague  last 
spring,  by  only  laying  it  nine  nights  under  my  pillow 
without  speaking  a  word.  But  then  you  must  know 
what  gave  the  virtue  to  this  sixpence  was,  that  it  had 
belonged  to  three  young  men  of  the  name  of  John ;  1 
am  sure  I  had  work  enough  to  get  it.  But  true  it  is,  it 
certainly  cured  me.  It  must  be  the  sixpence,  you  know, 
for  I  am  sure  I  did  nothing  else  for  my  ague,  except 
indeed, taking  some  bitter  sluff  every  three  hours  which 
the  doctor  called  bark.  To  be  sure  I  lost  my  ague  sooa 
after  I  took  it.  bm  I  am  certain  it  was  owing  to  the  crook- 
ed sixpence,  and  not  to  the  bark.  And  so, good  woman, 
you  may  come  in,  if  you  will,  for  there  is  not  a  soul  in 


58  BLACK     GILES, 

the  bouse  but  me.'  This  was  tbe  very  thing  Rachel 
Wanted  to  know,  and  very  glad  she  was  to  learn  it. 

While  Sally  was  above  stairs  untying  her  glove,  Ra- 
chel slipped  in  to  the  parlor,  took  a  small  silver  cup  from 
the  beaufet,  and  clapped  it  into  her  pocket.  Sally  raw 
down,  lamenting  that  she  had  lost  her  sixpence,  which 
she  verily  believed  was  owing  ta  her  liaving  put  it  into- 
a  left  glove,  instead  of  a  right  one.  Rachel  comforted5 
her  by  saying,  that  if  she  gsve  her  two  plain  ones  instead,, 
the  charm  would  work  just  as  well.  Simple  Sally 
thought  herself  happy  to  be  let  off  so  easily,  never  cal- 
culating that  a  smooth  shiHing  was  worth  two  crooked 
sixpences.  But  this  skill  was  a  part  of  'be  black  art  ii> 
which  Rachel  excelled.  She  took  tire  money  and  begat? 
So  examine  the  lines  of  Sally's  left  band.  She  bit  her 
withered  lip,  shook  her  head,  aad  bade  her  poor  dupe 
beware  of  a  young  man  who  had  black  hair. 

'  No,  indeed,'  cried  Sally,  all  hi  a  fright,  '  you  mean 
black  eyes,  fbr  oar  Jacob  has  got  brown  hair,  *t  is  his 
eyes  that  are  black.' 

'That  is  the  very  thing  I  was  going  to  say,'  muttered* 
Rachel,  'I  meant  eyes,. though  I  said  hair,  for  I  know 
his  hair  is  as  brown  as  a  chestnut,  and  his-  eyes  as  black 
as  a  sloe/ 

'So  they  are,  snre  enough/  cried  Sally,  'how  in  the 
world  could  you  know  that?*  forgetting  that  she  herself 
had  just  told  her  so.  And  it  is  thus  that  these  hags  pick 
out  of  the  credulous  all  which  they  afterwards  pretend 
to  reveal  to  them. 

*  O,  I  know  a  pretty  deal  more  than  that,'  said  RacheF, 
'but  you  must  beware  of  this  man,' 

'Why  so,7  cried  Sally,  with  great  quickness:  'Be- 
cause,' answered  Rachel, '  you  are  fated  to  marry  a  mart 
worth  a  hundred  of  him,  who  has  bluo  eyes,  light  hair, 
and  a  stoop  in  the  shoulders/ 


SLACK    GILES.  59 

'  No,  indeed,  but  I  can 't,'  said  Sally ;  '  1  have  promised 
Jacob,  and  Jacob  1  will  marry.' 

'  You  cannot,  child,'  returned  Ilachel  in  a  solemn  tone ; 
'it  is  out  of  your  power,  you  are  fated  to  marry  the  gray 
eyes  and  light  hair.' 

'  Nay,  indeed,'  said  Sally,  sighing  deeply, '  if  I  am  fated 
I  must ;  I  know  there 's  no  resisting  one 's  fate.' 

This  is  a  common  cant  with  poor  deluded  girls,  who 
are  not  aware  that  they  themselves  make  tlreir  fate  by 
their  folly,  and  then  complain  there  is  no  resisting  it. 

'What  can  I  do  ?'  said  Sally. 

' 1  will  tell  you  that,  too,'  said  Rachel.  '  You  must 
take  a  walk  next  Sunday  afternoon  to  the  church-yard, 
and  the  first  man  you  meet  in  a  blue  coat,  with  a  large 
posy  of  pinks  and  southern-wood  in  his  bosom,  sitting 
on  the  church-yard  Avail,  about  seven  o'clock,  he  will 
be  the  man.' 

'  Provided,'  said  Sally,  much  disturbed, '  that  he  has 
gray  eyes  and  stoops.' 

'  O,  to  be  sure,'  said  Rachel,  '  otherwise  it  is  not  the 
right  man.' 

'  But  if  I  should  mistake,'  said  Sally, '  for  two  men 
may  happen  to  have  a  coat  and  eyes  of  the  same  color  ? ' 

'To  prevent  that,' replied  Rachel,  'if  it  is  the  right 
man,  the  two  first  letters  of  his  name  will  be  R.  P.  This 
man  has  got  money  beyond  sea.' 

'O,  I  do  not  value  his  money,'  said  Sally,  with  tears 
in  her  eyes, '  for  I  love  Jacob  better  than  house  or  land  ; 
hut  if  I  am  fated  to  marry  another,  I  can't  help  it ;  you 
know  there  is  no  struggling  against  my  fate.' 

Poor  Sally  thought  of  nothing,  and  dreamt  of  nothing 
all  the  week  but  the  blue  coat  and  the  gray  eyes.  She 
made  a  hundred  blunders  at  her  work.  She  put  her 
little  knife  out  of  her  pocket  for  fear  it  should  cut  love 


60  BLACK     GILES. 

and  would  not  stay  in  the  kitchen  if  there  was  not  an 
even  number  of  people,  lest  it  should  break  the  charm. 
She  grew  cold  and  mysterious  in  her  behavior  to  faith- 
ful Jacob,  whom  she  truly  loved. — But  the  more  she 
thought  of  the  fortune-teller,  the  more  she  was  convinced 
that  brown  hair  and  black  eyes  were  not  what  she  was 
fated  to  marry,  and  therefore,  though  she  trembled  to 
think  it,  Jacob  could  not  be  the  man. 

On  Sunday  she  was  too  uneasy  to  go  to  church;  for 
poor  Sally  had  never  been  taught  that  her  being  uneasy 
was  only  a  fresh  reason  why  she  ought  to  go  thither. 
She  spent  the  whole  afternoon  in  her  little  garret,  dress- 
ing in  all  her  best.  First  she  put  on  her  red  riband, 
which  she  had  bought  at  the  fair :  then  she  recollected 
that  red  was  an  unlucky  color,  and  changed  it  for  a  blue 
riband,  tied  in  a  true  lover's  knot ;  but  suddenly  calling 
to  mind  that  poor  Jacob  had  bought  this  knot  for  her  of 
a  pedlar  at  the  door,  and  that  she  had  promised  to  wear 
it  for  his  sake,  her  heart  smote  her,  and  she  laid  it  by, 
sighing  to  think  she  was  not  fated  to  marry  the  man 
who  had  given  it  to  her. — When  she  had  looked  at  her- 
self twenty  times  in  the  glass  (for  one  vain  action  al- 
ways brings  on  another)  she  set  off,  trembling  and 
shaking  every  step  she  went.  She  walked  eagerly 
towards  the  church-yard,  not  daring  to  look  to  the  right 
or  left,  for  fear  she  should  spy  Jacob,  who  would  have 
offered  to  walk  with  her,  and  so  have  spoilt  all.  As 
soon  as  she  came  within  sight  of  the  wall,  she  spied  a 
man  sitting  upon  it :  Her  heart  beat  violently.  She 
looked  again  ;  but  alas!  the  stranger  not  only  had  on  a 
black  coat,  but  neither  hair  nor  eyes  answered  the 
description.  She  now  happened  to  cast  her  eyes  on 
the  church-clock,  and  found  she  was  two  hours  before 
her  time.  This  was  some  comfort.  S^e  walked  away 


BLACK     GILES.  Ol 

and  got  rid  of  the  two  hours  as  well  as  she  could,  paying 
great  attention  not  to  walk  over  any  straws  which  lay 
across,  and  carefully  looking  to  see  if  there  were  never 
an  old  horse-shoe  in  the  way,  that  infallible  symptom 
of  good  fortune.  While  the  clock  was  striking  seven, 
she  returned  to  the  church-yard,  and  O !  the  wonderful 
power  of  fortune-tellers!  there  she  saw  him!  there  sat 
the  very  man  !  his  hair  as  light  as  flax,  his  eyes  as  blue 
as  butter-milk,  and  his  shoulders  as  round  as  a  tub. 
Every  tittle  agreed  to  the  very  nosegay  in  his  waistcoat 
button-hole.  At  first,  indeed,  she  thought  it  had  been 
sweetbrier,  and  glad  to  catch  at  a  straw,  whispered  to 
herself,  it  is  not  he,  and  I  shall  marry  Jacob  still;  but  on 
looking  again,  she  saw  it  was  southern-wood  plain 
enough,  and  that  of  course  all  was  over.  The  man 
accosted  her  with  some  very  nonsensical,  but  too  accep- 
table, compliments.  She  was  naturally  a  modest  girl, 
and  but  for  Rachel's  wicked  arts,  would  not  have  had 
courage  to  talk  with  a  strange  man  ;  but  how  could  she 
resist  her  fate  you  know?  After  a  little' discourse,  she 
asked  him,  with  a  trembling  heart,  what  might  be  his 
name?  Robert  Price,  at  your  service,  was  the  answer. 
'Robert  Price!  that  is  R.  P.  as  sure  as  I  arn  alive,  and 
the  fortune-teller  was  a  witch  !  It  is  all  out!  it  is  all  out! 
O  the  wonderful  art  of  fortune-tollers  !' 

The  little  sleep  she  had  that  night,  was  disturbed  with 
dreams  of  graves,  and  ghosts,  and  funerals,  but  as  they 
were  morning  dreams,  she  knew  those  always  went  by 
contraries,  and  that  a  funeral  denoted  a  wedding.  Still 
a  sigh  would  now  and  then  heave,  to  think  that  in  that 
wedding  Jacob  would  have  no  part.  Such  of  my  read- 
ers as  know  the  power  which  superstition  has  over  the 
weak  and  credulous  mind,  scarcely  need  be  told,  that 
poor  Sally's  unhappiness  was  soon  completed.  She 
G 


62  BLACK    GILES. 

forgot  all  her  vows  to  Jacob ;  she  at  once  forsook  an 
honest  man  whom  she  loved,  and  consented  to  marry  a 
stranger,  of  whom  she  knew  nothing,  from  a  ridiculous 
notion  that  she  was  compelled  to  do  so  by  a  decree 
which  she  had  it  not  in  her  power  to  resist  She  mar- 
ried this  Richard  Price,  the  strange  gardener,  whom  she 
soon  found  to  be  very  worthless,  and  very  much  in  debt 
He  had  no  such  thing  as  '  money  beyond  sea,'  as  the  for- 
tune-teller had  told  her;  but  alas!  he  had  another  wife 
there. — He  got  immediate  possession  of  Sally's  twenty 
pounds.  Rachel  put  in  for  her  share,  but  he  refused 
to  give  her  a  farthing,  and  bid  her  get  away  or  he  would 
have  her  taken  up  on  the  vagrant  act.  He  soon  ran 
away  from  Sally,  leaving  her  to  bewail  her  own  weak- 
ness ;  for  it  was  that  indeed,  and  not  any  irresistible  fate, 
which  had  been  the  cause  of  her  ruin.  To  complete  her 
misery,  she  herself  was  suspected  of  having  stolen  the 
silver  cup  which  Rachel  had  pocketed.  Her  master, 
however,  would  not  prosecute  her,  as  she  was  falling 
into  a  deep  decline,  and  she  died  in  a  few  months  of  a 
broken  heart,  a  sad  warning  to  all  credulous  girls. 

Rachel,  whenever  she  got  near  home,  used  to  drop 
her  trade  of  fortune-telling,  and  only  dealt  in  the  wares 
of  her  basket  Mr.  Wilson,  the  clergyman,  found  her 
one  day  dealing  out  some  very  wicked  ballads  to  some 
children.  He  went  up  with  a  view  to  give  her  a  repri- 
mand ;  but  had  no  sooner  begun  his  exhortation  than 
up  came  a  constable,  followed  by  several  people. 

'  There  she  is,  that  is  the  old  witch  who  tricked  my 
wife  out  of  the  five  guineas,'  said  one  of  them,  '  Do  your 
office  constable,  seize  that  old  hag.  She  may  tell  for- 
tunes and  find  pots  of  gold  in  Taunton  jail,  for  there  she 
will  have  nothing  else  to  do  ! ' 

This  was  that  very  farmer  Jenkins,  whose  wife  had 


BLACTK    GILES.  63 

fceen  cheated  by  Rachel  of  the  five  guineas.  He  had 
taken  pains  to  trace  her  to  her  own  parish :  he  did  not 
«o  much  value  the  loss  of  the  money,  as  he  thought  k 
was  a  duty  he  owed  the  public  to  clear  the  country  of 
such  vermia.  Mr.  Wilson  immediately  committed  her. 
She  took  her  trial  at  the  next  court,  when  she  was  sen- 
tenced t©  a  year's  imprisonment.  In  the  mean  time,  the 
pawnbroker  to  whom  she  had  sold  the  silver  cup,  which 
•she  had  stolen  from  poor  Sally's  master,  impeached  her, 
and  as  the  rebbery  was  ftilly  proved  upon  Rachel,  she 
was  sentenced  for  this  crime  te  Botany  Bay;  and  a 
ihappy  day  it  was  for  the  eoiiRty,  when  such  a  nuisance 
was  sect  eat  of  it.  She  was  transported  much  about 
the  same  rime  that  her  husband  Giles  lost  hie  life  ia 
stealing  the  net  from  the  garden  wall,  as  related  already. 
I  have  thought  it  my  duty  to  print  this  little  history, 
as  a  kind  ©f  warning  to  all  young  men  and  maidens 
not  to  have  any  thing  to  say  to  cheats,  impostors,  cunning- 
tvomen.fortune4etters,  cervjitrors,  and  interpreters  of  dreams. 
Listen  to  nee,  your  true  friend,  when  I  assure  you  that 
Cfod  never  revesls  to  weak  ap.d  wicked  women  those 
secret  designs  of  his  providence,  which  no  human  wis- 
dom is  able  to  foresee.  To  consult  these  false  oracles  is 
not  only  foolish,  but  sinful.  It  is  foolish,  because  they 
are  themselves  as  -ignorant  as  those  whom  they  pretend 
to  teach :  and  it  is  sinful,  because  it  is  prying  into  that 
futurity  which  God,  in  mercy  as  well  as  wisdom,  hides 
•from  men.  God  indeed  orders  all  things;  but  when 
you  have  a  mind  to  do  n  foolish  thing,  do  not  fancy  you 
are  fated  to  do  it.  This  is  tempting  Providence,  and  not 
trusting  him.  It  is  indeed  charging  God  with  fotty. 
Prudence  is  his  gift,  and  you  obey  him  better  when 
you  make  use  of  prudence,  under  the  direction  of  pray- 
er, than  when  you  madly  run  into  ruin,  and  think  you 


64 


BLACK    GILES. 


are  only  submitting  to  your  fate.  Never  fancy  that  you 
are  compelled  to  undo  yourself,  or  to  rush  upon  your 
own  destruction,  in  compliance  with  any  supposed  fatal- 
ity. Never  believe  that  God  conceals  his  will  from  a 
sober  Christian  who  obeys  his  laws,  and  reveals  it  to  a 
vagabond  gypsey  who  runs  up  and  down  breaking  the 
laws  both  of  God  and  man.  King  Saul  never  consulted 
the  witch  till  he  left  of  serving  God.  The  Bible  will 
direct  us  what  to  do  better  than  any  conjuror,  and  there 
are  no  days  unlucky  but  those  which  we  make  so  by 
our  own  vanity,  sin  and  folly. 


OH!   OH!   OH! 

Translated  from  the  French  of  Guisot,  for  the  Family  81017  Book. 

OH  !  oh !  oh !  cried  little  Lewis,  "  my  tooth,  my 
tooth !  "  My  tooth  aches ;  I  cannot  eat  with  it ;"  so  he 
laid  down  his  breakfast  upon  the  table. 

"  It  will  ache  until  you  have  it  out,"  said  his  mother. 

"  Oh !  I  cannot  have  it  out ;  it  would  hurt  me  very 
much." 

"  Then  you  must  not  complain  if  it  aches." 

"  But  I  cannot  eat  with  it." 

"  Very  well,  then,  let  me  pull  it  out.  It  is  only  a 
milk  tooth ;  it  will  come  out  very  easy." 

"  Oh  !  no,  no ;  it  has  very  long  roots,  I  know." 

"  Very  well,  then ;  if  you  choose  to  keep  it  in,  you 
must  submit  to  the  trouble  it  occasions  you." 

Lewis  did  not  answer,  and  his  mother  said  no  more. 
She  wished  to  form  and  cultivate  his  own  reason  and 
the  power  of  self-command,  and  therefore  her  positive 
orders  and  direct  prohibitions  were  as  few  as  possible. 
A  command  will  not  cure  a  fault,  and  a  prohibition 
can  control  only  the  external  conduct.  She  there- 
fore practised  teaching  her  children  to  act  for  them- 
selves. She  considered  this  one  of  the  cases  where 
her  child  ought  to  be  left  to  act  for  himself,  and  upon 
his  own  responsibility. 

Lewis  tried  once  more  to  eat  his  breakfast,  but  his 
tooth  troubled  him  at  every  attempt ;  so  he  laid  down 
his  bread  and  his  apple,  and  went  out  to  play  with  lit- 
6* 


66  OH  !  OH  !  OH  ! 

tie  Pompey.  Pompey  was  a  charming  little  dog,  and 
of  a  very  gentle  disposition,  and  he  was  accustomed 
to  bear  all  sorts  of  usage  without  complaint.  Lewis 
took  him  by  his  paws.  "  Stand  up,  Pompey;  make 
a  bow ;  give  me  your  paw ;  no,  not  that  paw,  the 
other  one."  Pompey  obeyed  with  the  best  grace  in  the 
Avorld,  though  the  exercise  was  not  the  most  agreeable 
to  him. 

Lewis,  in  order  to  vary  the  amusement,  concluded 
to  pull  up  Pompey  by  his  tail,  to  make  him  rise  on  his 
fore  feet,  so  as  to  make  him  turn  summerset.  At  his 
first  attempt,  Pompey  only  growled  a  little  ;  at  the  se- 
cond, he  growled  a  little  louder ;  at  the  third,  Lewis 
pulled  him  so  hard  by  the  tail,  that  Pompey  got  out  of 
patience,  and  turned  round  and  bit  him  slightly  on  his 
little  finger. 

"  Oh  !  oh !  oh !  he  cried  out,  "  that  ugly  Pompey  has 
bitten  me.  Ma !  ma  !  Pompey  has  bitten  me.  Oh  ! 
how  it  aches,  how  it  aches  !" 

"  Let  me  see ;  where  ?  Oh  !  that  is  nothing ;  you 
can  hardly  see  the  mark  of  the  tooth.  What  did  you 
do  to  him?" 

"  I  only  pulled  him  by  his  tail  to  make  him  turn 
summerset." 

"  Well,  you  certainly  must  have  hurt  him  a  great 
deal  more,  pulling  him  by  the  tail,  than  he  has  hurt 
you  by  that  little  bite.  He  bore  it  more  patiently  than 
you  do." 

"  I  don't  mean  to  play  with  him  any  more." 

"  Well,  you  can  do  just  as  you  please,  my  son ;  I 
don't  think  he  will  complain." 

Lewis  then  went  away,  and  as  he  passed  by  Pom- 
pey, the  dog  began  to  growl  again. 

"Be  still,  be  still,"  said  the  boy;  "don't  you  bite  me 


OH  !  OH  !  OH  !  67 

again !"  and  he  held  his  little  finger  in  his  other  hand 
tight,  as  if  he  was  afraid  it  would  be  torn  away  from 
him.  He  went  to  try  to  find  his  sister  Henrietta,  to 
play  with  her.  But  he  found  that  she  had  just  prick- 
ed her  finger  with  a  needle,  and  she  was  not  in  very 
good  humor  for  his  proposals. 

"  Go  away  and  let  me  alone,"  said  she ;  "  I  have 
pricked  myself ;"  and  she  stood  watching  the  blood  as 
it  flowed  down  through  the  glass  of  water  which  she 
was  holding  her  finger  into,  forming  a  curious  looking 
red  cloud. 

"  What  a  droll  prick,"  said  Lewis ;  "  your  blood  does 
not  sink  :  how  curiously  it  looks." 

"  A  droll  prick,  you  call  it,  do  you  ?  I'll  let  you  know 
how  droll  it  is  ;"  and  she  pricked  him  with  the  needle 
which  she  still  held  in  her  hand. 

"  Oh  !  oh !  oh  !  ma,  Henrietta  has  pricked  me  ;  give 
me  a  glass  of  water ;  oh  !" 

The  nursery  maid,  who  heard  him,  brought  some 
water,  without  looking  at  him,  pressing  her  right  hand 
upon  her  cheek. 

"Look  here,"  said  he,  "see  how  she  has  pricked 
me." 

"  What  of  that  ?"  replied  the  maid  ;  "  it  is  nothing 
at  all ;  what  should  you  say  if  you  had  the  tooth-ache 
as  I  have  ?" 

"  Have  you  got  the  tooth-ache  ?" 

"  Yes,  terribly  ;  I  have  not  slept  any  for  three  nights, 
and  I  shall  have  to  go  to-morrow  and  have  it  taken 
out,  for  I  cannot  let  my  work  go  any  longer ;"  and  she 
went  and  took  her  sewing.  After  having  squeezed  his 
finger  till  he  could  not  get  out  another  drop  of  blood, 
Lewis  did  not  know  what  to  do ;  he  could  not  think  of 
any  way  to  amuse  himself.  Pompey  growled  at  him, 


68  OH  !  OH  !  OH  ! 

Henrietta  was  out  of  humor,  the  maid  had  the  tooth- 
ache and  was  busy ;  all  were  occupied  with  their  own 
troubles.  Lewis  thought  the  house  was  in  rather  a 
sad  condition,  so  he  went  off  to  find  his  mother.  He 
thought  that,  at  least,  she  would  not  growl  at  him.  At 
that  instant,  he  heard  on  the  stairs  the  voice  of  one 
of  his  playmates,  little  Charles.  He  ran  towards  the 
door  to  open  it  for  him.  Charles  had  come  with  his 
teacher,  to  propose  to  him  to  go  with  five  or  six  other 
boys  of  their  age,  to  take  a  walk  by  the  canal  to  see 
the  skating.  This  was  just  the  thing.  Lewis  obtain- 
ed his  mother's  permission,  took  his  great  coat,  his  fur 
gloves,  and  off  they  went.  It  was  in  the  middle  of 
winter,  but  the  weather  was  dry,  and  the  sun  shone 
splendidly.  The  little  boys  ran  and  leaped  along  the 
road.  Lewis  did  so  at  first,  but  after  a  while  his  nose 
began  to  be  cold,  and  he  had  to  keep  one  of  his  hands 
over  it  constantly.  Presently,  his  fingers  began  to 
grow  numb.  He  put  his  other  hand  into  his  pocket, 
complaining  bitterly  that  he  was  obliged  to  keep  one 
of  them  in  the  air.  Next,  his  feet  began  to  be 
cold.  It  was  in  vain  that  they  told  him  if  he  ran  it 
would  warm  them.  "  How  in  the  world  do  you  think 
I  can  run  ?"  said  he ;  "  my  feet  are  absolutely  frozen." 
He  dragged  himself  along  sorrowfully  by  the  side  of 
his  teacher,  slipping  every  step,  liberating  his  nose 
now  and  then  to  breathe  into  his  fingers,  and  then 
grasping  it  again  in  great  haste.  At  length  they 
reached  the  banks  of  the  canal.  It  was  covered  with 
skaters,  who,  with  a  free  and  graceful  air,  their  heads 
high,  their  arms  sometimes  crossed  and  sometimes 
extended,  sometimes  folded  and  sometimes  freely 
swinging,  moved  swiftly  and  gracefully  over  the  smooth 
surface  upon  which  the  timid  walkers  could  scarcely 


OH  !  OH  !  OH  !  69 

oiand.  The  boys,  with  the  permission  of  their  teach- 
er, went  down  upon  the  ice  to  have  some  slides.  Lew- 
is allowed  himself  to  be  persuaded  to  go  with  them  ; 
and  then  you  might  have  seen  them  sliding  re- 
peatedly over  the  same  place,  so  as  to  make  a  long 
path,  polished  like  a  mirror;  upon  which,  after  a  short 
run,  they  could  slide  nobly.  Lewis  had  not  yet  dared 
to  do  this. 

"  Come,  Lewis,  come,"  said  one  of  his  companions, 
"  take  a  slide ;  you  will  certainly  freeze  if  you  do  not 
move  about  more." 

Lewis  thought  he  would  try.  He  went  back  a  few 
steps,  and  then  ran  till  he  came  to  the  edge  of  the  ice, 
and  gave  a  slide,  still  keeping  one  hand  upon  his  nose, 
and  the  other  in  his  pocket.  However,  he  went  on, 
and  kept  himself  upright ;  but  a  minute  after,  a  roguish 
little  fellow,  more  skilful  than  he,  slid  after  him,  and 
reached  him  before  he  got  half  through  his  slide.  They 
came  in  violent  contact,  and  Lewis  was  knocked  down 
upon  the  ice. 

"  Oh  !  oh  !  oh  !"  cried  Lewis.  "  Oh  !  oh !  oh  !  who 
is  that  who  knocked  me  down  ?  I  can't  get  up,  oh  ! 
help  me  get  up,  oh!  oh !"  and  he  lay  there  still,  not 
trying  to  get  up,  because  he  would  not  use  his  hands 
to  raise  himself  from  the  ice.  The  rest  of  the  boys 
laughed  at  his  clumsiness ;  then  the  teacher  came  to 
him,  helped  him  up,  tried  to  comfort  him  by  telling 
him  that  such  falls  would  not  hurt  him  any,  that  the 
paift  would  soon  be  over.  But  Lewis,  crying  and 
cnns,  went  off  of  the  canal  and  leaned  against  a  tree 
up<Mi  the  bank,  turning  his  back  to  the  skaters.  Pre- 
sently a  cripple  passed  by  him,  who  seemed  greatly 
amused  by  the  skaters,  and  said, "  What  a  pity  it  is  that 
mw  leg  is  of  wood ;"  for  he  had,  in  fact,  a  wooden  leg 


70  OH  !  OH  !  OH  ! 

"  What  is  the  matter  with  you,  my  little  friend  ?"  he 
said,  seeing  Lewis,  who  he  observed  was  standing  by 
himself,  and  looking  very  sorrowful.  "  Why  are  not 
you  down  there  with  the  rest  of  the  boys  ?" 

"  Do  you  think  I  know  how  to  skate  ?"  replied  Lewis. 

"  Do  you  not  know  how  to  skate  ?  Go  and  learn 
then.  I  wish  I  was  of  your  age.  At  any  rate,  you 
might  have  a  good  time  sliding." 

"  So  I  could,  but  they  keep  pushing  me  down." 

"  Well,  if  they  push  you,  you  must  push  them ;  and 
if  you  tumble  down,  you  must  jump  up  again." 

"  Yes,  and  freeze  my  hands  on  the  ice." 

"  Oh !  you  are  afraid  of  freezing  your  hands,  are 
you  ?  Poor  child !  what  would  you  have  done  if  you 
had  been  in  my  place  ;  if  you  had  tumbled,  like  me, 
into  a  great  ditch,  in  the  midst  of  a  battle,  and  when 
it  was  terribly  cold." 

"  In  a  ditch  ?  somebody  would  have  come  to  pull 
me  out." 

"  You  think  so,  do  you  ?  Before  any  body  had  come 
to  take  you  out,  you  would  have  been  frozen  to  death. 
If  my  leg  had  not  been  broken,  I  should  have  got  out 
myself  very  soon." 

"  You  had  your  leg  broken !  How  then  did  you  get 
out  at  all?" 

"  Oh !  I  dragged  myself  up  by  my  hands ;  and  I  was 
out  in  less  than  five  minutes." 

"  And  what  did  they  do  to  your  leg  afterwards  ?" 

"  With  my  leg  ?  They  cut  it  off,  to  be  sure.  But 
it  is  all  over  now;  I  shall  never  suffer  any  with  my 
wooden  leg.  But  come,  my  little  fellow.  Come,  we 
will  go  down  together  on  the  ice.  You  shall  have 
some  more  slides,  and  I  won't  let  any  bully  push 
you." 


OH!  OH!  OH!  71 

Lewis,  who  had  been  interested  and  cheered  by  the 
conversation,  followed  the  man.  The  teacher,  who 
had  heard  the  whole,  did  not  interfere.  Lewis  walked 
at  first  upon  the  ice  with  great  timidity.  The  good 
soldier,  for  a  little  while,  gave  him  his  hand  to  hold 
him  up. 

"Come,"  said  he,  at  last;  "go  along  alone  a  little. 
You  have  got  two  legs,  and  I  have  only  one.  I  will 
stand  and  look  at  you.  Forward !  march."  Lewis 
began  to  slide. 

"  Take  your  hands  out  of  your  pocket,"  called  out 
the  soldier,  "  and  let  go  your  nose.  Are  you  afraid  it 
will  fall  off?  Use  your  hands  to  balance  yourself  with. 
Heads  up !  hands  down !  There  !  Bravo !  That  is 
right.  Don't  be  afraid.  Unbutton  your  great  coat; 
what  is  in  your  way  ?" 

Lewis  unbuttoned  his  great  coat,  stretched  out  his 
arms,  and  had  a  grand  slide.  In  a  quarter  of  an  hour, 
he  had  learned  to  slide  as  well  as  any  of  the  boys  on 
the  canal. 

"  Now,  hear  me,"  said  the  old  soldier  to  him,  in  a 
low  voice.  "We  will  go  back  to  where  the  other 
boys  arc.  They  have  not  seen  you  practising  here, 
and  you  can  go  and  take  a  good  slide  right  in  amongst 
them.  Don't  be  afraid." 

Lewis  did  so.  When  the  boys  saw  him,  they  sud- 
denly exclaimed,  "  Holloa  !  here  comes  Lewis  again. 
Who  has  taught  you  to  slide  ?" 

"  I  did,"  said  the  man  with  a  wooden  leg,  who  was 
still  standing  upon  the  bank.  "  You  will  find  he  will 
not  be  afraid  any  more." 

The  children,  very  much  surprised,  continued  their 
play,  and  Lewis  stood  his  ground  among  them  very 
well.  When  the  time  for  going  home  arrived,  he  went 


72  OH!  OH!  OH! 

to  bid  his  friend,  the  soldier,  good-bye ;  who  said  to 
him,  in  parting,  "  Farewell,  my  little  fellow.  If  I  am 
here  the  next  time  you  come,  I  will  teach  you  to 
skate." 

They  then  returned  home.  Lewis  did  not  complain 
any  more  of  the  cold,  did  not  put  his  hands  in  his 
pocket.  He  let  his  nose  alone,  ran  off  like  the  rest  of 
the  boys,  and  reached  home,  not  only  without  any 
grumbling,  but  without  any  suffering.  As  he  ran  to- 
wards his  mother  to  tell  her  his  story,  he  found  her 
talking  with  a  poor  old  woman,  who  was  weeping,  and 
appeared  to  be  asking  aid.  "Ah  !  madam,"  said  she, 
"you  do  not  know  what  has  happened  to  my  James. 
He  has  been  my  only  support,  and,  although  he  is 
only  fourteen  years  old,  he  worked  so  well  for  his 
master,  who  is  a  joiner,  that  every  day  he  brought 
me  twenty  cents.  That  was  all  we  had  to  live  upon, 
for,  as  to  myself,  I  can  do  but  very  little ;  and  now, 
about  fifteen  days  ago,  my  poor  James  put  his  wrist 
out  of  joint,  and  he  came  home  to  me  very  wretched. 
By  good  fortune,  I  had  laid  up,  in  the  course  of  six 
months,  a  few  dollars,  to  buy  him  some  clothes.  I 
gave  them  to  him  and  sent  him  immediately  to  a  sur- 
geon, who  I  knew  was  very  skilful,  to  have  his  hand 
cured.  He  went  out,  and  I  supposed  that  he  went  to 
the  surgeon ;  but  no ;  he  thought  that  would  cost  too 
much.  A  man  in  our  neighborhood  proposed  to  set 
his  wrist  for  him  for  a  small  sum.  He  brought  me 
back  a  large  part  of  the  money  I  gave  him,  and  told 
me  they  did  not  charge  him  any  more ;  but  certainly 
his  wrist  was  very  badly  set,  for,  since  that  time,  it 
has  continued  swollen  and  inflamed.  In  looking  at  it, 
I  was  satisfied  that  the  bones  were  not  in  their  place. 
On  questioning  him  particularly,  I  found  out  the  truth. 


OH  !  OH  !  OH  !  73 

We  went  then  to  the  surgeon,  who  said  that  his  wrist 
could  be  cured,  but  that  it  would  require  a  long  treat- 
ment, and  be  attended  with  considerable  expense ;  and 
we  have  not  the  means  of  bearing  it,  as  for  fifteen 
days  my  poor  boy  has  not  been  able  to  work,  and  he 
\vill  not  be  able  to  do  any  thing  for  a  good  while  to 
come.  Can  you,  madam,  help  us?" 

Lewis  heard  her  with  much  attention .  His  mother, 
herself  much  affected,  perceived  that  what  had  been 
said  had  wrought  upon  her  son's  susceptibilities.  She 
did  not  know  that  he  had  already  begun  to  be  ashamed 
of  his  own  want  of  fortitude. 

"  Good  woman,"  said  she,  "  don't  be  troubled ;  go 
and  bring  him  here ;  I  will  take  him  myself  to  the 
surgeon,  who  will  examine  his  arm  anew,  and  I  will 
defray  the  expense  myself.  Will  you  go  ?  And,  Lew- 
is, should  you  like  to  go  ?" 

"  Oh  yes,  mother ;  I  should  like  very  much  to  see 
James."  Henrietta,  who  was  at  work  in  a  corner  of 
the  parlor,  asked  quickly,  "  May  I  go  too,  mother  ?" 

"  Yes ;  you  may  go,  my  child,  but  be  ready  quick ; 
we  want  James  to  get  well  as  soon  as  possible." 
They  went  immediately,  and  not  one  of  them  com- 
plained of  the  cold  on  the  way.  They  at  length  found 
James,  who  was  at  work,  making  a  handle  for  some 
tool,  \vith  his  well  hand.  His  mother  told  him,  with 
tears  of  joy,  of  the  success  of  her  visit.  James  re- 
turned with  them  to  Lewis'  mother.  "  Your  wrist  is 
very  bad,  James,"  said  she,  "  is  it  not  ?" 

"Oh  no,  madam,  not  very  bad; — if  I  could  only 
work." 

"Well,  be  patient;  you  shall  be  cured  as  soon  as 
possible.  You  are  a  brave  boy." 

They  went  together  to  the  surgeon's,  who,  as  soon 
7 


74  OH  !    OH  1   OH  1 

as  he  knew  the  story  of  James,  took  a  lively  interes* 
in  the  courageous  boy,  and  his  attention  to  him  soon 
produced  a  change ;  and  in  a  few  days,  the  swelling 
in  James'  Avrist  began  to  go  down.  They  were 
obliged  to  keep  him  from  working,  though  they  gave 
him  encouragement  that  in  a  short  time  he  would  be 
able  to  work  at  the  plane  again.  In  the  mean  time, 
his  wants  were  fully  provided  for  ;  and  Lewis,  on  re- 
turning home,  said  to  his  mother, 

"  Mother,  won't  you  pull  out  my  tooth  with  a 
thread  ?" 

Lewis  bore  it  patiently ;  and  he  learned  by  the  ex- 
ample of  the  old  soldier,  and  that  of  James,  not  to  allow 
himself,  whenever  he  felt  a  little  cold,  or  got  a  little 
prick,  to  scream  out,"  Oh  !  oh  !  oh  !" 


HISTORY 

OF  THE 

REDBREAST  FAMILY. 

IN  a  hole  which  time  had  made  in  a  wall,  covered 
with  ivy,  a  pair  of  redbreasts  built  their  nest.  It 
was  sheltered  from  the  rain,  screened  from  the  wind, 
and  in  an  orchard  belonging  to  a  gentleman,  who  had 
ordered  his  servants  not  to  disturb  any  birds  that  chose 
to  make  his  ground  an  asylum. 

In  this  retreat,  the  hen  redbreast  laid  four  eggs,  and 
then  took  her  seat  upon  them,  till  she  had  hatched  her 
infant  brood. 

Her  tender  mate  every  morning  brought  her  food, 
and  then  cheered  her  with  a  song. 

At  length  the  day  arrived  when  she  heard  the  chirp- 
ing of  her  little  ones ;  pleasing  to  her  ears  as  the  prat- 
tle of  a  beloved  child  to  its  fond  parent :  with  great 
tenderness  she  spread  her  wings  to  cover  them,  threw 
out  the  egg-shells  in  which  they  before  lay  confined, 
then  pressed  them  to  her  bosom,  and  called  to  her 
mate,  who  viewed  them  with  rapture,  and  seated  him- 
self by  her  side  that  he  might  share  her  pleasure. 
"We  may  promise  ourselves  much  delight  in  rearing 
our  little  family,"  said  he,  "  but  it  will  cost  us  a  great 
deal  of  trouble  to  supply  all  our  nestlings  with  food." 
The  hen  bird  declared  her  willingness  to  leave  the  nest 


76  HISTORY  OF  THE 

in  search  of  worms,  observing  it  would  not  be  neces- 
sary for  her  to  be  long  absent,  as  in  her  last  flight  she 
had  discovered  a  place  where  food  was  scattered  on 
purpose  for  such  birds  as  would  take  the  pains  of  seek- 
ing it,  and  a  chaffinch  had  said,  there  was  no  danger 
in  picking  it  up.  To  hear  this  her  mate  was  well 
pleased,  because  an  increase  of  their  family  required 
more  food  than  heretofore  for  the  supply  of  their  ne- 
cessaries. 

The  little  ones  soon  began  to  feel  the  sensations  of 
hunger,  and  opened  their  mouths  for  food,  on  which 
their  kind  father  flew  forth  to  find  it,  and  by  turns 
supplied  the  nestlings  and  his  beloved  mate.  This 
was  a  hard  day's  work,  and  when  the  evening  came, 
he  turned  his  head  under  his  wing  and  soon  fell  asleep ; 
his  mate  followed  his  example  ;  as  for  the  little  ones, 
they  had  slumbered  for  some  time. 

The  next  morning  they  were  awakened  at  the  dawn 
of  day  by  the  song  of  a  sky-lark,  who  had  a  nest  near 
the  orchard ;  and,  as  they  young  redbreasts  wanted 
food,  their  father  prepared  himself  to  renew  his  toil, 
and  had  it  not  been  so  very  early,  his  mate  would  have 
gone  with  him,  to  have  showed  him  the  place  where 
food  was  purposely  laid  for  them ;  he  therefore  pro- 
vided breakfast  for  his  family,  as  the  hen  redbreast 
was  fearful  of  leaving  the  nestlings  before  the  air  was 
warmed  by  the  sun,  lest  they  should  be  chilled :  then 
perching  on  a  bough  just  by,  he  entertained  his  family 
with  his  melodious  notes ;  till  his  mate  springing  from 
the  nest,  and  calling  to  him,  he  followed  her  to  a 
court-yard  in  the  front  of  a  neat  mansion. 

No  sooner  did  they  appear  before  the  parlor  window 
than  it  was  hastily  thrown  up  by  Harriet  Benson,  a 
little  girJ  about  eleven  years  old,  the  daughter  of  a 


HEDBREASX   FAMILY.  77 

gentleman  and  lady  to  whom  the  house  belonged : 
with  great  delight  she  called  her  brother  Frederic, 
about  six  years  old,  to  see  two  robin-red-breasts ;  he 
soon  came  to  the  window  and  took  a  peep  at  the  fea- 
thered strangers,  then  ran  to  request  that  his  mamma 
would  give  him  a  large  piece  of  bread  to  feed  all  the 
sparrows  and  chaffinches  that  came  every  day,  and 
two  robin-red-breasts  besides.  His  mother  gave  him 
a  piece  from  a  stale  roll  which  lay  on  the  table,  at  the 
same  time  observing,  that  if  the  birds  continued  to  in- 
crease as  they  had  lately  done,  she  must  find  some 
other  sort  of  food  for  them,  as  it  is  not  right  to  cut 
pieces  from  a  loaf  on  purpose  for  birds,  as  there  are 
many  children  that  want  bread,  to  whom  we  should 
give  the  preference  ;  and  it  would  be  a  pity  to  deprive 
a  little  boy  or  girl  of  a  breakfast  to  give  it  to  birds. 
Frederic  said  rather  than  that  should  happen,  he  would 
give  either  of  them  his  OAvn  breakfast,  and  concluded 
to  request  John  the  footman,  and  Betty  the  cook,  to 
save  all  the  crumbs  they  could,  that  he  might  give 
them  to  the  birds.  Their  mother  approved  of  the 
birds  being  fed  with  crumbs,  if  the  children  could  but 
prevail  on  the  servants  to  indulge  them  with  all  the 
crumbs  they  could  save. 

Harriet  being  quite  impatient  for  fear  the  birds 
should  fly  away,  requested  that  her  brother  would  make 
haste  to  feed  them,  Avhich  he  gladly  ran  to  do.  The 
birds  seemed  pleased  at  the.  sight  of  Harriet  and  Fre- 
deric ;  they  hopped  round  the  window,  they  chirped, 
they  twittered,  and  employed  all  their  little  arts  to 
please.  Frederic  was  so  delighted  that  he  requested  to 
feed  them  all  himself ;  but  as  the  redbreasts,  being 
strangers,  kept  a  greater  distance  than  the  other  birds, 
he  could  not  throw  the  bread  far  enough ;  but  his  sis- 
7* 


78  HISTORY  OF  THE 

ter  threw  some  pieces  to  the  very  spot  where  the  affec- 
tionate pair  stood,  who  readily  picked  up  the  portion 
assigned  them ;  while  the  other  birds,  having  satisfied 
their  hunger,  successively  withdrew,  the  redbreasts 
only  were  left  behind. 

Frederic  exclaimed  with  rapture  that  the  redbreasts 
were  feeding !  and  Harriet  meditated  a  design  of 
taming  them  by  kindness,  resolving,  if  she  could  not 
get  crumbs  sufficient,  to  spend  some  of  her  money  in 
seeds  for  them.  "  Oh,"  said  Frederic,  "I  would  give 
all  the  money  in  the  world  to  buy  grain  for  my  dear 
birds."  But  as  his  mamma  reminded  him  there  were 
poor  people  as  well  as  poor  birds,  he  concluded  only  to 
buy  a  little  grain.  The  redbreasts  had  now  finished 
their  meal ;  they  hastily  flew  to  their  humble  habita- 
tion, and  finding  all  their  young  ones  well,  they  flew1  to 
an  adjoining  garden  to  find  worms  for  their  family. 

Frederic  now  expressed  great  concern  that  the  ro- 
bins were  gone,  but  his  sister  told  him,  that  as  his  new 
favorites  had  met  with  so  good  a  breakfast  they  might 
return  on  the  morrow.  Their  mother,  who  stood  by, 
and  with  pleasure  had  seen  the  humanity  of  her  chil- 
dren, desired  them  to  shut  the  window,  and  thus  ad- 
dressed them : 

"  I  am  delighted,  my  dear  children,  with  your  beha- 
vior to  the  poor  birds,  and  wish  to  encourage  it ;  but  it 
requires  regulations ;  let  me  desire  you  not  to  suffer  it 
to  gain  upon  you  as  to  make  you  unhappy,  or  forgetful 
of  poor  people ;  always  keep  in  mind  the  distresses 
which  they  endure,  and  on  no  account  waste  any  food, 
by  giving  it  to  inferior  animals,  whilst  men,  women, 
and  children  are  in  want  of  it." 

Harriet  promised  to  follow  her  mamma's  instruc- 
tions ;  but  Frederic  was  engaged  by  watching  and  try- 


2EBBEEAST   FAMILY.  79 

Jilg  to  catch  a  butterfly  which  fluttered  in  the  window  ; 
but  his  mamma  did  not  permit  him  to  catch  it,  saying 
he  could  not  well  take  it  without  hurting  it,  nor  keep 
it  without  distressing  it.  Frederic  said  he  did  not 
want  to  keep  it,  but  to  carry  it  out  of  doors.  "  Well/' 
replied  she,  "  then  open  the  window;"  which  being  done, 
the  butterfly  escaped  and  soon  seated  itself  on  a  rose-tree. 

When  breakfast  was  over,  they  desired  to  walk  in 
the  garden,  before  they  applied  to  their  lessons ;  where 
Frederic  amused  himself  with  watching  the  butterfly, 
as  it  flew  from  flower  to  flower,  which  gave  him  more 
pleasure  than  he  could  have  received  from  catching 
and  confining  the  little  tender  creature. 

Now  let  us  see  what  became  of  the  redbreasts. 

The  hen  bird,  as  was  said  before,  flew  to  her  nest, 
and  called  out,  "  Are  you  all  safe,  my  little  ones  ?" 
"  All  safe,"  replied  Pecksy,  "  but  hungry  and  cold," 
"  Well,"  replied  she,  "  my  breast  and  wings  shall 
warm  you,  and  your  father  is  gone  for  food." 

In  a  very  short  time  her  mate  returned  with  a  worm 
in  his  mouth,  which  was  given  to  Robin ;  and  he  was 
going  for  another  for  Dicky,  but  his  mate  reminded 
him  of  the  agreement,  to  divide  the  care  of  providing 
for  the  family  betwixt  them  ;  "  therefore,"  said  she, 
"  the  next  journey  shall  be  mine ;"  and,  after  directing 
her  where  to  find  plenty  of  food  without  seeking  it,  he 
entered  the  nest.  "  Come,  my  dears,"  said  he,  "  let 
us  see  what  sort  of  a  nurse  I  can  make  ;  but  an  awk- 
ward one  I  fear,  indeed,  young  ones,"  said  he ;  "  you 
have  a  kind  and  tender  mother,  and  I  hope  you  will 
make  a  dutiful  return."  They  all  promised  they 
would ;  then  chanting  a  pleasant  tune,  the  nestlings 
were  so  well  pleased  they  did  not  think  their  mother's 
absence  long.  Though  she  did  not  return  so  soon  aa 


80  HISTORY   OF   THE 

she  wished,  because  a  boy  was  picking  up  worms  to 
fish  with,  and  she  was  afraid  of  him ;  as  soon  as  she 
came  near  the  nest,  up  flew  her  mate  to  take  his  turn, 
and  was  out  of  sight  in  an  instant. 

The  mother  inquired  how  they  all  did?  "Very 
well,"  replied  they  all  at  once ;  "  and  we  have  been  all 
very  cheerful,"  said  Robin,  "  for  my  father  sung  us  a 
song ;"  and  Dicky  said  he  should  like  to  learn  it ;  "And 
so  should  I,"  said  Robin;  "Well,"  said  their  mother, 
"  as  you  grow  older  and  attend  to  your  father's  instruc- 
tions there  is  little  doubt  but  you  may  both  learn  to 
chant  the  same  notes."  The  male  bird  now  returned 
with  food,  and  thus  this  little  family  passed  the  day 
till  evening  reminded  them  of  repose. 

In  this  manner  they  passed  several  days.  The  nest- 
lings daily  grew  in  strength  and  knoAvledge. 

Harriet  and  Frederic  continued  to  feed  them  as  usu- 
al ;  as  the  cook  and  footman  saved  all  the  crumbs  they 
could  for  that  purpose. 

One  morning  it  happened,  that  both  the  redbreasts 
were  absent  longer  than  usual ;  for  Harriet  and  Frede- 
ric had  overslept  themselves,  having  gone  to  bed  very 
tired  over  night.  The  hen  bird  flew  to  the  nest  as 
soon  as  she  had  finished  her  meal,  while  her  mate  staid 
a  little  longer  to  sing  to  his  benefactors.  As  soon  as 
the  hen  was  seated,  she  observed  her  nestlings  were  not 
so  cheerful  as  usual.  "  What  is  the  matter  ?"  said  she ; 
"  how  have  you  agreed  during  my  absence  ?"  No  re- 
ply was  made  ;  all  was  silent ;  for  they  had  been  quar- 
relling. Robin,  knowing  he  had  done  wrong,  began 
to  justify  himself;  "  I  am  sure,"  said  he,  "  I  only  gave 
Dicky  a  little  peek,  because  he  crowded  me  so."  "  In- 
deed," said  Dicky,  "  he  gave  me  a  hard  peck,  and  I 
was  afraid  of  my  eyes." 


REDBREAST    FAMILY. 


dl 


*'  I  do  not  love  to  tell  tales,"  said  Flapsy,  "  but  what 
Dicky  says  is  very  true  ;  so  Robin  plucked  two  or  three 
feathers  out  of  me,  because  I  desired  him  not  to  use 
us  ill."  "And,"  said  Pecksy,  "he  set  his  foot  very 
hard  upon  me  for  reminding  him  of  my  mother's  ad- 
vice." 

"  This  is  a  sad  story  indeed,"  said  the  mother  ;  "  I 
am  very  sorry  to  find  that  Robin  discovers  so  turbu- 
lent a  disposition ;  if  he  goes  on  in  this  manner,  we 
shall  have  but  little  peace  in  the  nest."  She  then  de- 
sired him  to  get  from  under  her  wing  and  sit  on  the 
outside,  whilst  she  cherished  those  that  were  good. 
Dicky  now  entreated  that  Robin  might  be  pardoned ;  but 
his  mother  observed,  that  the  offence  must  be  repented 
of  before  he  is  pardoned.  Now  her  mate  returned 
with  a  fine  worm,  and  looked  for  Robin,  who  lay  skulk- 
ing by  himself.  "  Give  it  to  Dicky,"  said  the  mother, 
"  for  Robin  must  be  served  last  this  morning ;  nay,  I 
do  not  know  thai  he  shall  have  any  victuals  all  day." 
*'  What  can  be  the  matter  ?"  said  the  father,  when  he 
had  put  the  worm  into  Dicky's  mouth ;  "  have  the  little 
ones  been  naughty  ?  But  I  cannot  stay  to  hear  now, 
for  I  left  a  fine  worm,  which  may  be  gone  if  I  do  not 
make  haete  back." 

Dicky  aga'n  entreated  to  have  Robin  taken  into  the 
nest;  and  Pecksy  desired  Robin  not  to  fret,  as  she 
would  give  him  her  breakfast  if  her  mother  consented 
to  it ;  but  Robin  said,  "if  he  could  not  be  served  first, 
he  would  have  none,"  and  called  them  all  ill-natured 
things  for  causing  him  to  be  put  out  of  the  nest.  The 
mother  heard  these  sullen  speeches  of  Robin,  and  de- 
sired Pecksy  not  to  hold  any  more  conversation  with 
eo  naughty  a  bird.  The  father  then  arrived,  and  Peck- 
sy was  fed.  "  Wliat  has  Robin  done  ?"  said  he. 


82  HISTORY   OF   THE 

"  Quarrelled  with  his  brothers  and  sisters,"  replied  she. 
"  I  arn  sorry  to  hear  that,"  said  the  father;  "I  did  not 
think  he  had  been  so  foolish  or  so  unkind."  "But 
that  is  not  all,"  said  the  mother,  "  he  presumes  on  be- 
ing the  eldest,  and  claims  half  the  nest  to  himself,  and 
now  is  sullen  because  he  was  not  fed  first."  The  fa- 
ther requested  his  mate  would  leave  him  to  settle  with 
Robin,  and  go  to  take  a  little  air,  as  she  seemed  fa- 
tigued :  she  took  the  advice  given,  and  flew  to  a  tree 
just  by,  waiting  the  event  of  her  mate's  interposi- 
tion. 

The  mother  departed,  and  the  father  thus  addressed 
his  nestlings :  "  And  so  you  have  been  quarrelling  to- 
gether ;  and  pray  what  good  has  that  done  you  ?  But  I 
must  not  blame  you  all,  as  I  fear  Robin  is  most  to  blame, 
for  wanting  to  be  master ;  a  pretty  master  indeed  ;  he 
does  not  know  how  to  govern  his  own  temper.  I  shall 
not  say  much  to  him  now,  as  he  is  in  a  sullen  mood, 
and  may  only  turn  a  deaf  ear  to  my  advice ;  but  he  may 
depend  upon  it,  I  will  not  suffer  him  to  use  any  of  the 
family  ill,  more  particularly  his  good  mother ;  and  if 
he  continues  obstinate  I  must  turn  him  quite  out  of  the 
nest  before  he  can  fly.  Robin  was  alarmed  at  the 
threats,  and  began  to  be  very  hungry  and  cold,  and  pro- 
mised to  behave  better  in  future,  and  his  little  brothers 
and  sisters  begged  that  he  might  be  forgiven  and  re- 
stored-to  the  nest.  By  this  time  the  mother  had  re- 
turned, and  was  well  pleased  to  hear  her  mate  say  Ro- 
bin was  sensible  of  his  fault,  and  asked  forgiveness  ; 
indeed,  Robin  promised  not  to  offend  again ;  she  there- 
fore received  him  once  more  to  her  wing ;  he  nestled 
closely  to  her  side,  and  soon  found  the  warmth  to  com- 
fort him  :  his  father,  without  being  asked,  as  Robin  was 
very  hungry,  flew  for  some  refreshment,  which  Robin 


REDBREAST   FAMILY.  83 

gratefully  received.  Thus  was  peace  restored  to  the 
nest,  at  which  the  kind  mother  rejoiced. 

For  several  days  our  robins  and  their  nestlings  lived 
in  peace ;  but  one  time,  as  the  hen  bird  approached  the 
nest,  she  was  surprised  at  not  hearing  the  chirpings  of 
the  young  ones  ;  and  to  find  them  all  crowded  together 
and  trembling  with  fear.  "  What  is  the  matter  ?"  said 
she.  "Oh,  dear  mother,"  cried  Robin;  "And  pray 
come  into  the  nest,"  said  Pecksy,  who  had  ventured 
to  lift  up  her  head.  "  What  has  terrified  you  in  this 
manner  ?"  said  she.  "  Oh,  I  Jo  not  know,"  said  Dicky, 
"but  we  have  seen  such  a  monster  as  I  never  saw  be- 
fore." "A  monster!  what  was  it  like  ?"  "I  cannot 
tell,"  said  Dicky,  "  it  was  so  frightful."  "  Indeed  it 
was,"  said  Robin,  "  for  I  had  a  full  view  of  it,  and 
will  give  the  best  description  I  can. 

"  As  we  lay  peaceably  in  the  nest,  Dicky  and  I  were 
trying  to  sing  ;  we  suddenly  heard  a  noise,  and  then  a 
great  round  red  thing  came  near  us,  with  a  pair  of  large 
staring  eyes,  a  very  large  beak,  and  below  that  a  wide 
mouth  with  two  rows  of  bones,  that  looked  as  if  they 
would  grind  us  to  pieces  in  an  instant ;  on  the  top  of 
the  face  and  down  the  sides  hung  something  black, 
but  not  feathers.  When  the  two  eyes  had  stared  for 
some  time,  the  whole  disappeared."  "  I  cannot  tell," 
said  the  mother ;  "  what  this  could  be,  but  it  may  come 
again." 

"  I  hope  not,"  said  Flapsy  ;  "  I  may  die  with  fear  if 
it  does."  "  And  so  may  I,"  said  Pecksy.  "  Why  so  ?" 
said  the  mother,  "  it  has  done  qone  of  you  any  harm, 
and  you  should  not  give  way  to  such  fears ;  when  you 
go  abroad  in  the  world  you  will  see  many  strange  ob- 
jects ;  and  if  you  are  terrified  at  every  thing  you  can- 
not account  for,  you  may  live  unhappy  lives.'  Endea- 


84  HISTORY   OF  THE 

vor  to  be  good,  and  then  you  need  not  fear  any 
thing." 

The  father  now  brought  a  worm  and  gave  it  to  Ro- 
bin ;  and  was  going  for  another,  when  all  the  nestlings 
begged  him  to  stay,  as  they  had  been  so  alarmed. 

The  mother  then  related  what  had  passed.  "  Non- 
sense," said  he ;  "  a  monster  !  great  eyes !  large  mouth  ! 
I  do  not  fear  it ;  and  as  it  did  them  no  harm,  why 
should  they  be  in  such  a  terror  now  it  was  gone  ?" 
"  Do  not  be  angry,  dear  father,"  said  Pecksy,  "for  it 
was  very  frightful  indeed."  "  Well,"  said  he,  "  I  will 
fly  round  the  orchard  and  see  if  I  can  meet  this  mon- 
ster." The  nestlings  begged  he  would  not,  for  fear  it 
should  eat  him  up.  But  away  he  flew.  The  fears  of 
the  nestlings  were  now  very  great  for  their  father's 
safety,  but  he  soon  returned  and  said  he  had  seen  the 
monster.  The  little  ones  all  clung  to  their  mother 
fearing  the  frightful  creature  was  near.  "  What,  agair. 
afraid  !"  said  the  father ;  "  a  parcel  of  stout  hearts  I 
have  here  truly  !  When  you  fly  about,"  said  he,  "  you 
may  see  hundreds  such  monsters,  as  you  call  them ; 
for  it  was  only  a  man,  and  he  is  our  friend,  the  gar- 
dener." "A  man!"  cried  Dicky;  " was  that  frightful 
thing  a  man  ?"  "  Nothing  else,"  said  the  father ;  "  and 
a  good  man  too,"  said  he,  "  for  he  throws  us  some 
crumbs  when  he  is  eating  his  breakfast." 

"If  he  lives  in  the  garden,"  said  Flapsy,  "I  shall  be 
afraid  to  leavfe  the  nest !"  but  the  father  informed  her 
that  when  the  rest  had  flown  for  food,  he  should  not 
leave  them  to  come  and  feed  her ;  she,  fearing  he  would 
be  quite  angry,  promised  to  obey  him,  and  the  rest  be- 
gan to  recover  their  spirits. 

Indeed,  this  monster  was  no  other  than  honest  Joe 
the  gardener,  Avho  went  to  the  house  and  told  Harriet 


REDBREAST   FAMILY.  85 

and  Frederic  of  the  discovery-  Frederic  was  greatly 
pleased,  as  he  concluded  these  were  the  same  robins 
he  so  frequently  fed.  Harriet  ran  to  her  mamma,  and 
requested  leave  for  her  and  her  brother  to  go  with  Joe 
to  see  the  nest.  They  obtained  leave,  but  received  a 
caution  not  to  mount  too  high,  should  the  nest  be  far 
from  the  ground ;  and  to  be  careful  not  to  frighten  the 
little  ones. 

The  redbreasts,  in  the  mean  time,  had  concluded 
to  leave  the  young  ones  by  themselves  a  little,  in  order 
to  prepare  them  for  the  thoughts  of  leaving  the  nest, 
to  seek  food  for  themselves,  and  accordingly  flew  to  an 
adjoining  tree. 

Frederic  was  for  running  all  the  way,  but  Harriet 
entreated  him  not,  for  fear  he  should  make  himself  too 
hot.  At  length  they  came  to  the  spot,  and  Joe  placed 
the  steps  near  the  wall,  which  his  young  master  quick- 
ly mounted,  and  soon  beheld  the  nestlings.  "  Oh,  the 
sweet  creatures  !"  cried  he;  "  there  are  four  of  them  to 
be  sure  !  I  never  saw  any  thing  so  pretty  in  my  life! 
I  wish  I  might  carry  you  all  home !"  "  That  must 
not  be,"  said  Harriet;  "come  down,  brother,  now,  and 
let  me  look."  "  Good-by,  robins,"  said  Frederic,  and 
came  down  the  steps.  As  the  steps  were  broad,  and 
the  nest  was  not  high,  Harriet  Avent  up,  but  would 
only  indulge  herself  with  a  peep,  for  fear  of  frighten- 
ing them.  "  They  are  sweet  creatures,"  said  she, 
"  and  I  hope  they  will  come  soon  with  the  old  ones  to 
feed  at  our  window."  Joe  then  attended  his  young 
master  and  mistress  to  the  house.  The  two  red- 
breasts now  returned,  and  observing  the  little  party 
near  the  nest,  concluded  they  should  hear  a  fine  tale 
from  the  nestlings ;  they  alighted  on  the  ivy,  and  the 
mother  inquired  if  all  was  safe.  "  Very  well,  dear  mo- 


80  HISTORY  OF  'THE 

ther,"  said  Robin.  "  What,  not  one  eat  up  by  the  mon- 
ster?" cried  the  father.  "No,  father,"  said  Dicky, 
"  we  are  not  eaten  up,  but  the  monster  has  been  here 
again,  and  brought  two  more  with  him  !" 

"  When  I  saw  the  top  of  him,"  said  Flapsy,  "  my 
heart  began  to  flutter  to  such  a  degree  that  I  was  ready 
to  faint ;  every  feather  of  me  shook ;  but  remembering 
my  father's  advice,  I  recovered  a  little,  and  was  very 
glad  when  he  was  quite  gone.  My  brothers  and  sis- 
ters felt  as  I  did,  but  we  agreed  to  make  ourselves  as 
comfortable  as  could  be,  as  my  father  had  told  us 
he  was  harmless.  However,  before  we  had  quite  re- 
covered from  our  fright,  we  heard  an  uncommon  noise, 
not  like  any  bird  we  ever  heard,  sometimes  a  hoarse 
sound,  and  then  a  shriller  noise  ;  when  we  saw  some- 
thing which  bore  a  little  resemblance  to  the  monster, 
but  not  so  large  or  frightful ;  indeed,  there  was  some- 
thing pretty  in  the  appearance  of  this  creature,  though 
it  had  a  row  of  white  bones,  yet  not  so  large  and 
frightful  as  the  monster.  When  this  was  gone,  an- 
other came,  but  staid  so  short  a  time  I  cannot  fully  de- 
scribe it." 

The  mother  was  glad  to  find  the  nestling?  more 
composed  than  she  expected,  and  informed  them,  that 
the  monster  as  they  supposed,  was  only  their  friend 
the  gardener,  and  the  little  faces  were  the  young  bene- 
factors, by  whose  bounty  they  were  every  day  regaled. 

"  Oh !"  said  Pecksy,  "  are  these  little  creatures  your 
friends?  how  I  was  dec?ived!  what  bird  would  have 
thought  that  monster  could  have  had  a  tender  heart  ?" 
"  If  we  judge  from  appearances,"  said  the  mother, 
"  we  may  often  be  deceived :  we  must  judge  mankind 
by  their  actions,  not  by  their  looks.  Some  ch;ld"tn  look 
pretty,  yet  c.re  barbarous  enough  to  rob  birds  cf  their 


UEDBIiEAST  FAMILY.  87 

eggs;  and  sometimes  .hey  take  the  nest  and  the  help- 
less young  away.  Last  year,"  said  she,"  "I  was  de- 
prived of  my  nestlings  in  that  manner,  and  suffered 
much  on  account  of  their  loss." 

"  A  like  calamity  befell  me,"  said  the  father,  "as  in 
my  absence  my  nestlings  were  torn  away.  When  I 
first  missed  them,  I  thought  iny  mate  was  taken  with 
them  ;  but  recollecting  she  might  have  escaped,  I  flew 
in  search  of  her. 

"  As  I  was  flying,  I  saw  three  boys,  whose  appear- 
ance was  far  from  disagreeable ;  one  of  them  held  my 
nest  of  young  ones,  and  all  seemed  pleased  with  the 
dear  little  creatures,  who  opened  their  mouths  for  food, 
but  all  in  vain.  To  have  striven  to  feed  tbem  at  that 
time  would  have  been  destruction  to  myself,  but  I  fol- 
lowed them  to  see  where  they  would  place  my  young 
ones.  In  a  short  time  they  came  to  a  house,  and  one 
of  them  went  for  some  food,  which,  though  strange, 
they  swallowed  very  quickly ;  but  missing  the  warmth 
of  their  mother,  they  set  up  a  general  chirp  of  lamen- 
tation, Avhich  grieved  me  to  hear :  the  nest  was  then 
carried  away,  and  what  became  of  the  nestlings  I  ne- 
ver knew.  I  flew  from  place  to  place  to  find  my  mate, 
and  at  last  found  her  expiring  near  the  place  where  our 
nest  had  been  built :  at  the  sound  of  my  voice  she  re- 
vived a  little,  but  with  difficulty  she  informed  me  of 
her  great  grief  for  the  loss  of  me  and  her  little  ones. 
I  attempted  to  comfort  her  ;  but  it  was  too  late — she 
breathed  her  last. 

"  I  passed  the  remainder  of  the  summer,  and  a  long 
winter  after  it,  in  a  sorrowful  manner.  But  as  the 
spring  advanced,  I  met  with  one  whose  amiable  dispo- 
sition has  renewed  my  comfort."  Here  he  paused, 
and  inquired  of  the  hen  bird  what  became  of  her  former 


88  HISTORY  OF  THS 

mate.  "Why,"  replied  she,  "after  we  had  Io~t  our 
nest,  as  he  was  flying  about  in  search  of  our  young,  a 
cruel  hawk  caught  him  up  in  an  instant. 

"  I  felt  the  bitterest  pangs  for  his  loss,  and  led  a  so- 
litary life,  till  I  met  with  him,  whose  endearing  beha- 
vior has  made  society  again  agreeable  to  me." 

To  all  this  discourse  the  young  ones  listened  with 
great  attention ;  and  Flapsy  said,  "  Oh,  I  shall  be 
afraid  to  leave  the  nest !  what  dangers  there  are  in  the 
•world  !"  But  her  mother  said,  "  Every  bird  does  not 
meet  with  a  hawk,  or  cruel  boys.  I  hope  my  little 
ones  will  attend  to  the  advice  of  their  parents,  for  by  so 
doing  I  have  escaped  many  dangers."  "And  so  have 
I,"  said  her  mate ;  "  come,  Robin  and  Dicky,  Flapsy 
and  Pecksy,  take  courage  !  for  to-morrow  you  shall 
begin  to  see  the  world."  The  young  ones  rejoiced  to 
hear  that ;  though  Flapsy  was  apprehensive  of  seeing 
monsters.  Evening  now  approached,  and  each  bird 
turned  its  head  under  its  wiog  and  fell  asleep. 

After  Harriet  and  Frederic  had  been  gratified  with 
the  sight  of  the  robins'  nest,  they  were  met  by  Tommy 
Long  and  his  sister  Emma,  who  had  come  to  visit 
them.  The  former  was  a  rolmst,  rude  boy,  about  nine 
years  old,  and  the  latter  a  fine  girl  about  eleven. 

Harriet  and  Frederic  were  pleased  to  see  them,  and 
invited  them  to  go  and  see  the  robins.  "  What  ro- 
bins ?"  said  Tommy. 

"Why,  our  robins  in  the  ivy  wall ;  they  are  very 
pretty  creatures  indeed;  let  us  go  and  see  them." 

"  I  can  see  birds  enough  at  home,"  said  Tommy : 
"but  why  did  not  you  take  the  nest?  we  might  have 
had  fine  fun,  in  tossing  the  young  birds  about." 

"  Oh  fie !"  said  Harriet,  "  that  would  be  cruel."  "  Not 
at  all,"  said  Tommy  Long;  "I  often  have  such  fun.'* 


RKDBREAST   FAMILY.  89 

"  My  n.amma  has  taught  me,"  said  Harriet,  "  that 
it  is  cruel  to  give  causeles  <  pain  to  any  living  crea- 
ture." 

"  Dear  -ne  !"  said  h ,-,  "  liave  you  no  such  fun  here  ? 
why,  Harry  Jumps  and  I  make  cats  fly." 

"Make  cats  fly?"  said  Frederic ;  "how  so?"  "Why," 
aaid  he,  "  we  tied  a  bladder  to  each  side  of  their  necks, 
and  then  flung  them  from  the  top  of  the  house.  There 
was  an  end  of  their  purring  and  mewing  for  some 
time,  I  assure  you,  for  they  lay  a  long  time  struggling 
and  gasping  for  breath." 

"  For  shame !  Tommy  Long,'  said  Harriet ;  "  sure, 
this  cannot  be  true !"  "  Indeed  it  is,"  said  he,  "  and  I 
ean  tell  a  great  many  funny  things  of  this  sort." 

"  I  desire  to  hear  no  more,"  said  Frederic,  "  of  such 
barbarities." 

"  Barbarities,  indeed  !  why  have  we  not  a  right  to 
do  as  we  please  with  dogs  and  cats  ?  Fiddle  faddle 
of  your  nonsense,  say  I.  Come,  you  must  hear  how 
we  served  two  cocks,  by  setting  them  to  fight." 

Here  his  sister  Emma  interrupted  him,  and  desired 
him  not  to  relate  any  more  of  his  tricks,  as  it  was  not 
agreeable  to  Harriet  and  Frederic  Benson  to  hear 
them. 

By  this  time  they  had  got  to  the  house,  where  they 
were  met  by  Mrs.  Benson ;  who  perceiving  Harriet  to 
wipe  some  tears  from  her  eyes,  inquired  the  cause, 
and  upon  being  informed  by  Frederic,  she  desired  the 
little  party  to  walk  in  and  sit  down,  when  she  thus 
addressed  them  :  — 

"  1  cannot  think  you  have  any  desire  to  be  cruel,  but 
perhaps  you  think  birds  and  beasts  have  no  feeling; 
but  I  think  very  differently. 

"  Though  they  cannot  speak  our  language,  each  kind 


90  HISTORY   OF   THE 

has  one  of  its  own,  which  is  well  understood  by  those 
of  the  same  species,  and  so  far  intelligible  to  us,  as  to 
convince  us  they  are  pleased,  grieved,  afraid,  or  angry. 
From  hence  we  may  infer  it  is  cruel  to  rob  them  of 
their  young,  to  deprive  them  of  their  liberty,  or  give 
them  pain. 

"  Observe  but  the  call  of  the  hen  with  her  brood  of 
chickens  :  when  she  finds  some  grain,  how  pleasingly 
she  salutes  them ;  when  a  dog  or  an  enemy  approach- 
es, how  alarming  are  her  cries !  And  if  by  accident 
we  tread  on  a  dog's  foot,  will  not  bis  howling  tell  us 
he  is  in  pain  ? 

"  Besides,  insignificant  as  these  creatures  appear  in 
your  estimation,  they  were  made  by  God  as  well  as 
you.  Have  you  not  read  in  the  Testament,  that  our 
Savior  said,  '  Blessed  are  the  merciful,  for  they  shall 
obtain  mercy  ?'  How  then  can  you  expect,  that  God 
will  bless  you  that  are  wantonly  cruel  to  innocent 
creatures,  which  he  designed  for  happiness  ?" 

This  admonition,  which  Lucy  Long  did  not  expect, 
brought  tears  into  her  eyes ;  on  which  the  good  lady 
took  her  and  her  brother  by  the  hand,  and  said :  "  I  do 
not  wish  to  distress  you,  my  dears,  but  merely  to  awa- 
ken the  natural  sentiments  of  your  hearts :  reflect  at 
leisure  on  what  I  have  said  to  you,  and  I  believe  you 
will  think  me  your  friend. 

"  I  wish  all  children  to  read  the  natural  history  of 
animals ;  it  leads  the  mind  to  contemplate  the  perfec- 
tions of  the  Supreme  Being,  and  furnishes  hints  for  the 
conduct  of  human  life.  An  idle  person  maybe  admo- 
nished by  an  ant  or  bee  ;  a  thoughtless  mother  by  a 
hen;  an  unfaithful  servant  by  a  dog;  and  soon,  as 
Gay  has  expressed  it  in  his  fable  of  the  shepherd  and 
philosopher." 


REDBREAST   FAMILY.  91 

*'  Aye,"  said  Tommy  Long,  "  we  may  learn  from  the 
learned  pig  in  the  Hay-market." 

"  What  does  he  do  ?"  said  Frederic,  "  I  never  saw 
a  learned  pig." 

"  In  respect  to  the  learned  pig,  I  have  heard  surpris- 
ing accounts,  considering  that  animals  of  that  species 
are  generally  regarded  as  stupid.  It  was  shown  in  a 
room  to  numbers  of  people.  Two  alphabets  of  large 
letters  on  cards  were  placed  on  the  floor;  one  of  the 
company  was  desired  to  name  a  word,  which  the  pig 
was  to  spell ;  this  his  keeper  repeated  to  him,  and  the 
pig  picked  out  every  letter  with  his  snout,  then  collect- 
ed them  together  to  complete  the  word.  He  was  de- 
sired to  tell  the  hour  of  the  day,  and  one  of  the  com- 
pany held  a  watch  to  him ;  this  he  seemed  to  examine 
with  his  little  cunning  eyes,  then  picked  out  figures  for 
the  hours  and  minutes  of  the  day.  He  performed  a 
number  of  tricks  of  the  same  nature,  to  the  great  di- 
version of  the  spectators. 

"  I  did  not  go  to  see  this  pig,  for  I  think  great  cruelty 
must  have  been  exercised  in  teaching  him ;  and  there- 
fore would  not  encourage  such  a  scheme."  Tommy 
Long  and  his  sister  seemed  pleased  at  this  account, 
and  took  their  leave  of  Harriet  and  Frederic,  who 
proposed  going  the  next  afternoon  to  see  Tommy  and 
Emma- 

Early  in  the  morning  hen  redbreast  awaked  her 
young  brood.  "  Come,  my  little  ones,"  said  she, 
"  shake  off  your  drowsiness  ;  remember  this  is  the  day 
for  your  entrance  into  the  world.  I  desire  each  of  you 
to  dress  your  feathers  before  you  go  out ;  for  a  slovenly 
bird  is  my  aversion,  and  neatness  is  an  advantage  to 
the  appearance  of  every  one." 

The  father  was  upon   the  wing  betimes,  that  he 


92  HISTORY  OF  THE 

might  give  each  of  them  a  breakfast  before  they  left 
the  nest ;  and  after  he  had  regaled  himself  at  the  par- 
lor window  as  usual,  flew  back  to  the  ivy  wall,  and 
cheerfully  cried  out,  "  Are  you  all  ready,  my  nestlings  ?" 
"  Yes,"  they  replied.  He  then  desired  them  to  get 
on  the  edge  of  the  nest.  Robin  and  Pecksy  sprung 
op  in  an  instant,  but  Dicky  and  Flapsy,  being  timorous, 
were  not  so  expeditious. 

"  Now,"  said  the  father  to  Eobin,  "  stretch  your 
wings,  and  flutter  them  in  this  manner ;"  (showing 
him  the  way ;)  "  now  hop  upon  this  branch,  and  when 
I  fly,  spread  your  wings  and  follow  me."  Robin  did 
so,  and  alighted  safely  on  the  ground.  "  Now  stand 
still  till  the  rest  join  us,"  said  the  father,  and  flew  back 
for  Dicky  to  do  as  Robin  had  done.  Dicky  was  very 
fearful  of  falling,  and  did  not  try  to  fly  at  his  father's 
request,  but  sat  fluttering  at  the  edge  of  the  nest ;  upon 
which  his  father  told  him  he  must  take  courage  and 
fly  for  food  for  himself,  as  it  would  not  be  in  his  pow- 
er always  to  bring  him  food :  and  if  he  did  not  make 
use  of  his  wings,  he  must  stay  and  starve.  "  Wings 
were  made  to  fly  with,"  said  he,  "  and  not  always  to 
be  kept  folded  by  your  sides  ;  birds  must  fly  for  their 
living,  and  not  spend  all  their  time  in  dressing  their 
feathers  to  make  themselves  look  pretty;  fly  off  this 
instant,"  said  he. 

Dicky,  hearing  this,  endeavored  to  go  ;  but  his  fears 
returning,  he  stood  flapping  his  wings  in  a  very  irre- 
solute manner,  and  suffered  his  father  to  lead  the  way 
twice  without  following  him.  This  being  the  case, 
his  father  took  a  circuit,  and,  unperceived  by  Dicky, 
came  behind  him  and  pushed  him  off  the  branch.  He 
now  stretched  his  pinions,  and,  upborne  by  the  air, 
gently  descended  to  the  ground  where  Robin  stood. 


REDBREAST    FAMILY.  93 

The  mother  conducted  Flapsy  and  Pecksy  down, 
who,  following  the  directions  given,  found  the  task 
much  easier  than  they  expected. 

All  the  birds  hopped  cheerfully  about,  and  every 
object  on  which  they  turned  their  eyes  excited  their 
wonder;  they  were  now  no  longer  in  a  little  nest, 
built  in  a  small  hole,  but  at  full  liberty  in  the  open 
air ;  the  orchard  appeared  to  them  a  world. 

"  Come,"  said  the  father,  "  let  us  proceed  to  business ; 
we  did  not  leave  the  nest  merely  to  look  about  us ; 
every  living  creature  that  comes  into  the  world  has 
something  to  do  ;  we  small  birds  have  an  easy  task  in 
comparison  of  many  animals,  being  only  required  to 
seek  food,  build  nests,  and  provide  for  our  young  ones, 
till  they  are  able  to  provide  for  themselves. 

"We  have  indeed  many  enemies;  hawks  and  other 
birds  will  catch  us  if  not  on  our  guard ;  but  our  worst 
foes  are  naughty  boys ;  yet,  even  among  them,  we  have 
a  better  chance  than  many  other  birds,  on  account  of 
a  story  told  amongst  them,  of  a  little  boy  and  girl  who 
were  lost  in  a  wood,  where  they  were  starved  to  death. 
The  redbreasts  of  that  day  saw  the  little  pair  lay  hand 
in  hand  upon  the  ground,  and  would  have  fed  them ; 
but,  finding  they  were  quite  dead,  and  unable  to  bury 
them,  resolved  to  cover  them  with  leaves. 

"  This  was  a  great  task,  but  many  a  redbreast  has  since 
shared  the  reward  of  it ;  I  believe  those  who  do  good  to 
others  will  meet  a  recompense  some  way  or  other.'"' 

The  father  then  hopped  away,  and  the  rest  readily 
followed  to  seek  for  food ;  the  parents  instructed  their 
young  ones  in  what  manner  to  seek  for  it. 

Dicky  found  four  little  worms  together,  but  instead 
fef  calling  his  brother  or  sisters  to  partake,  he  devoured 
ihem  himself. 


94  HISTORY  OF  THE 

His  father  observed  this  selfish  disposition,  and  re- 
proved him  for  it,  saying,  "  In  a  family  every  individu- 
al ought  to  consult  the  welfare  of  the  whole,  instead 
of  his  own  private  satisfaction ;  a  day  may  come,  wnen 
ne  who  now  has  sufficient  to  supply  the  wants  of  his 
relations,  may  stand  in  need  of  assistance  from  them." 

Dicky  was  quite  ashamed  at  hearing  this  reproof, 
and  hopped  away  to  find  something  for  his  brothers 
and  sisters,  that  he  might  regain  their  good  opinion. 

Robin  in  the  mean  while  had  found  a  caterpillar, 
and  which  he  was  going  to  take  to  Pecksy ;  but  a  lin- 
net that  had  a  nest  in  the  orchard  snatched  it  from 
him,  and  flew  away  with  it.  Inflamed  with  rage,  Robin 
called  out  to  his  father  to  kill  the  linnet. 

"  That  would  be  taking  violent  revenge  indeed," 
said  the  father.  "  I  had  rather  sustain  an  injury  than 
take  revenge.  We  must  expect  many  such  a  scramble 
as  that  if  we  live.  We  should  restrain  our  anger  to  be 
happy  ;  for,  peace  and  tranquillity  of  mind  are  the 
most  valuable  things  we  can  possess." 

Dicky  soon  procured  a  worm,  like  unto  those  he  had 
greedily  eaten,  and  presented  it  to  Pecksy;  she  re- 
ceived it  with  pleasure,  acknowledging  it  was  a  kind- 
ness, and  doubly  welcome  from  his  beak.  The  mother 
commended  Dicky,  saying,  "  Fraternal  love  stamps  a 
value  on  the  most  trifling  presents."  The  pleasure 
Dicky  felt  on  hearing  this,  caused  him  to  resolve  for 
the  future  to  be  generous. 

The  mother  now  thought  of  returning  home,  and 
reminded  her  mate,  that  "  if  the  little  ones  fatigued 
themselves  too  much,  they  Avould  not  be  able  to  fly 
back." 

"  True,"  replied  her  mate ;  "  gather  them  under  your 
wings  a  little,  and  we  will  then  see  what  they  can  do." 


REDBREAST  FAMILY.  95 

She  complied  with  this  desire,  and  when  they  were 
sufficiently  rested  they  raised  themselves  on  their  feet. 

"  Now  Robin,"  cried  the  father,  "  let  us  see  your 
dexterity  in  flying  upwards ;  come,  I  will  show  you 
how  to  raise  yourself." 

"  That  trouble  will  be  unnecessary,"  said  the  con- 
ceited bird  ;  "  as  I  flew  down,  I  know  how  to  fly  up  ;" 
then  spreading  his  wings,  he  strove  to  rise,  but  could 
only  shuffle  along  upon  the  ground.  The  father  again 
offered  to  assist  him,  but  Robin  persisted  in  it  that  he 
stood  in  need  of  no  instruction,  and  tried  again ;  he 
raised  himself  about  a  yard  from  the  ground,  but  soon 
tumbled  down  on  his  head.  His  mother  then  reproved 
him  for  his  obstinacy,  advising  him  to  accept  his  fa- 
ther's instructions. 

"Let  him  alone,  let  him  alone,"  said  the  father; 
"  if  he  is  above  being  taught,  he  may  find  his  own  way 
to  the  nest ;  I  shall  now  teach  his  brother ;  come, 
Dicky,  and  try  to  fly  upwards." 

Dicky  seemed  in  no  haste  to  fly ;  and  said  he  did  not 
see  why  they  needed  to  go  back  to  the  nest  at  all ;  he 
should  suppose  they  might  easily  find  a  snug  corner  to 
creep  into. 

"  Well,"  said  the  father,  "  here  is  one  as  simply 
timid  as  the  other  is  ridiculously  conceited ;  those 
who  give  way  to  needless  fears  expose  themselves 
to  real  dangers;  here  it  will  be  cold  and  damp  in 
the  night,  and  you  may  be  devoured  by  rats,  pole- 
cats, weasels,  ferrets,  or  other  creatures  that  seek  for 
food  by  night ;  whereas,  if  we  go  back  to  the  nest,  we 
may  lie  warm,  safe,  and  quiet." 

Dicky  began  to  think  it  was  his  irterest  to  obey  his 
father ;  said,  "  he  would  try  to  fly  up,  but  was  afraid/' 

"  Never  despair,"  replied  his  father,  "  of  doing  whai 


%  HISTORY  OF  THE 

is  reasonable,  and  others  have  done ;  see  that  new- 
fledged  wren,  how  courageously  she  skims  along;  let  it 
not  be  said  that  a  redbreast  lies  grovelling  on  the  earth, 
while  a  wren  soars  above  him." 

Ashamed  at  this  reproof,  Dicky  spread  his  wings  and 
his  tail,  obeyed  his  father's  instructions,  and  safely  ar- 
rived at  the  nest,  which  was  an  agreeable  resting  place 
after  the  fatigue  of  the  day  ;  he  then  rejoiced  that  he 
had  so  kind  a  father  to  teach  him  what  was  proper. 

The  mother  bird  found  some  little  difficulty  in  teach- 
ing Pecksy  and  Flapsy  to  fly,  but  being  mindful  of  her 
instructions,  they  arrived  safe  at  the  nest. 

Robin  now  found  himself  alone,  and  gave  way  to  an- 
ger ;  "  Why,"  cried  he,  "  am  I  to  be  treated  in  this 
manner,  who  am  the  oldest  of  the  family,  while  the 
youngest  are  fondled  ?  But  I  do  not  care ;  I  can  get  to 
the  nest  yet."  Then  trying  to  fly,  he  got  up  in  the  air, 
but  knew  not  which  way  to  direct  his  course ;  at 
length  being  quite  spent,  he  fell  to  the  ground,  and 
bruised  himself  in  several  places ;  he  then  wished  he 
had  followed  the  advice  of  his  father  and  mother,  but 
it  was  for  that  time  too  late.  The  parent  birds  hear- 
ing his  moaning,  flew  to  his  assistance;  and  as 
Robin  was  sensible  of  his  fault,  they  did  not  say  much 
to  him,  but  sought  out  a  place  in  the  gardener's  tool- 
house  for  him  to  rest  in  ;  and  gathering  some  shreds 
together  which  lay  scattered  about,  they  made  him  a 
comfortable  resting  place,  to  which  he  hopped  with 
difficulty.  The  nestlings  were  pleased  to  hear  Robin 
was  thus  provided  for,  and  wanted  to  go  and  keep  him 
company ;  but  their  parents  would  not  permit  them, 
judging  it  most  proper  Robin  should  be  left  to  himself, 
and  feel  the  consequences  of  his  presumption.  Night 
now  approached,  and  Rabin  began  to  think  of  the  com- 


REDBREAST  FAMILY.  97 

fortable  hours  he  had  spent  with  his  father  and  rattLer, 
his  brothers  and  sisters,  in  their  nests :  often  did  he 
wish  he  had  taken  their  advice.  His  eye  being  bruised 
with  the  fall,  and  his  neck  very  stiff,  he  could  not  ea- 
sily turn  his  hei».d  under  his  wing  to  get  to  sleep;  and 
as  it  became  dark  his  fears  were  enlarged,  as  every 
breath  of  wind  that  made  a  noise  caused  him  to  fear  it 
might  be  a  rat  or  an  owl,  who  eat  birds  in  the  dark. 

Morning  at  length  came,  and  his  kind  parents,  after 
a  mournful  night,  carried  some  food  in  their  mouths  for 
his  nourishment ;  Dicky,  Pecksy,  and  Flapsy  went  al- 
so to  see  how  he  had  fared ;  he  desired  them  to  mind 
what  their  parents  said  to  them,  that  they  might  avoid 
a  similar  disaster. 

Pecksy  and  Flapsy  now  desired  their  parents  to  take 
them  to  see  the  world,  but  the  hen  bird  told  them  it 
would  be  best  to  wait  till  she  and  their  father  could  go 
with  them,  which  they  might  do  more  freely  when 
Robin  was  better.  However,  they  seemed  to  comply 
with  this  proposal ;  yet,  watching  an  opportunity,  they 
flew  across  the  orchard  to  a  hedge,  where  many  little 
birds  were  playing  in  the  sun.  Their  father  had,  un- 
perceived  by  them,  taken  a  spray  on  a  neighboring  tree, 
to  watch  for  their  welfare  ;  and  whilst  the  mother  was 
procuring  food  for  Robin,  Dicky  followed  his  father. 
Pecksy  and  Flapsy  soon  got  at  play  with  some  young 
chaffinches  and  linnets,  when  a  hawk  appeared  in 
sight.  The  whole  party  threw  themselves  on  their 
backs,  screaming  with  all  their  might;  the  redbreasts, 
recovering  from  their  fright,  and  rising  on  their  feet, 
ventured  to  look  about  to  see  what  was  become  of  the 
hawk,  when  they  beheld  him  in  the  air  carrying  off  a 
young  bird  ;  some  of  the  feathers  dropping  near  Pecksy 
and  Flapsy,  they  found  it  was  a  goldfinch.  Dicky,  who 
9 


98  HISTORY  OF  THE 

had  seen  this  affair,  was  so  terrified  he  knew  not  wha 
to  do,  expecting  his  sisters  would  have  been  devour- 
ed ;  but  they  crept  as  soon  as  they  could  into  the  thick- 
est part  of  a  currant  bush,  to  hide  themselves  under  the 
leaves.  "What  an  escape,"  said  the  father  to  Dicky, 
have  those  little  ones  had !  let  us  fly  and  see  how  they 
do."  Dicky  was  so  eager  to  obey  the  invitation,  that, 
flying  with  all  his  might  to  the  currant  bush,  he  lost 
his  balance  and  fell  in ;  this  again  affrighted  Pecksy 
and  Flapsy,  as  they  at  first  supposed  it  was  the  hawk 
returned ;  but  venturing  to  peep,  they  saw  it  was  Dicky ; 
and  their  father  coming  at  that  instant,  they  began  to 
tell  how  they  had  been  alarmed.  "  I  saw  it  all,"  said 
the  father,  "  and  I  hope  in  future  you  will  not  ramble 
from  your  parents  without  leave ;  perhaps  by  this  time 
your  mother  has  missed  you,  and  is  very  uneasy  for 
your  welfare;  Robin's  disobedience  should  be  a  lesson 
of  instruction ;  and  as  there  are  many  dangers  in  the 
world,  you  should  not  venture  alone  till  you  have  more 
experience."  Pecksy  and  Flapsy  were  sensible  they 
had  done  wrong  in  going  from  their  mother  without 
leave,  and  promised  to  behave  more  careful  in  future. 
The  father  then  desired  them  to  follow  him,  to  seek 
their  mother,  whom  they  found  attending  upon  Robin. 
She  perceiving  the  confusion  Pecksy  and  Flapsy  were 
in,  inquired  the  cause,  and  being  informed  by  her  mate, 
was  about  to  reprove  the  young  ones ;  but  they  all,  as 
with  one  voice,  said  they  would  not  go  from  their  pa- 
rents again  without  asking  leave.  Robin  being  now 
able  to  hop  about  a  little,  and  the  bruise  on  his  pinion 
getting  better,  he  was  able  once  more  to  rise  to  the 
nest,  where  the  family  were  pleased  to  receive  him; 
and  they  all  slept  soundly  till  morning. 

The  father  of  our  little  feathered  family  awoke  them 


REDBREAST  FAMILY.  99 

with  a  delightful  song,  and  as  Robin  had  been  long 
confined  by  his  bruises,  he  proposed  to  his  mate  their 
taking  the  young  ones  to  see  a  little  of  the  world ;  she 
readily  consented,  and  the  young  ones  followed  them 
to  a  cherry  tree,  where  they  began  to  eat  in  great  haste  ; 
but  the  mother,  knowing  the  bad  effects  of  unripe  fruit, 
desired  they  would  only  taste  of  such  as  were  ripened 
by  the  sun.  In  this  tree  were  a  pair  of  chaffinches,  in 
great  agitation,  striving  to  part  one  of  their  own  brood 
and  a  young  sparrow,  who  were  engaged  in  a  furious 
battle ;  neither  of  them  would  desist,  till  the  chaffinch 
dropped  down  dead.  "  Oh  !"  said  the  hen  chaffinch, 
"  my  nestling  is  lost  by  his  own  folly  :  I  cautioned 
him  not  to  make  acquaintance  with  sparrows,  fearing 
they  would  lead  him  into  mischief;  but  no  entreaties 
could  prevail.  As  soon  as  he  began  to  peck  about  he 
would  follow  the  sparrows,  who  taught  him  to  steal 
corn  and  other  things,  and  to  quarrel  with  every  bird 
he  met;  1  feared  he  would  be  killed. 

"  Let  me  advise  you,  young  redbreasts,"  said  she, 
to  follow  your  parents'  directions  in  every  respect,  and 
avoid  bad  company."  She  then  flew  to  her  nest,  to  in- 
form the  rest  of  the  family  of  this  sad  affair,  and  the 
redbreasts  took  another  flight.  The  father  observing 
a  parcel  of  boys  creeping  silently  along,  "  Stop,"  said 
he,  "  let  us  perch  on  this  tree,  and  see  what  those  little 
monsters  are  about."  Scarcely  were  they  seated  when 
one  of  the  boys  mounted  a  tree  and  took  a  nest  of  young 
linnets ;  soon  after,  another  lad  had  found  in  a  bush  a 
family  of  thrushes,  and  calling  to  his  companions,  they 
eagerly  seized  the  little  creatures.  The  parents  of  the 
linnets  and  thrushes  now  experienced  great  uneasi- 
ness, and  the  little  redbreasts  were  spectators  of  those 
parental  agonies  and  complaints  they  had  formerly 


100  HISTORY  OP  THE 

heard  of.  Pecksy  wished  to  go  back  again  to  the 
orchard,  being  much  affrighted :  Dicky  and  Flapsy 
were  also  desirous  of  returning,  as  alarmed  for  their 
own  safety.  "  No,"  said  the  father,  "  let  us  stay  a  lit- 
tle longer.  Now  we  will  go  on."  They  therefore 
took  another  flight,  and  saw  a  man  scattering  seed  on 
the  ground  :  Dicky  observing  this,  invited  his  brother 
and  sisters  to  go  and  partake  of  the  nice  seed.  "  Be 
not  in  haste,"  said  the  father ;  "  watch  here  with  me 
a  little."  All  the  little  ones  stretched  their  necks  and 
kept  a  watchful  eye  on  the  man.  In  a  few  minutes  a 
number  of  sparrows,  chaffinches,  and  linnets  descend- 
ed, and  began  to  feed :  but  suddenly  the  man,  who  was 
a  bird-catcher,  cast  a  net  over  them,  and  all  were  taken 
captive.  The  chaffinches  and  linnets  were  put  into 
separate  cages,  where  they  had  scarcely  room  to  flut- 
ter ;  and  as  for  the  sparrows,  their  necks  were  wrung, 
and  put  in  a  bag  together.  The  little  redbreasts 
trembled  for  themselves,  and  were  in  great  haste  to 
take  wing ;  and  being  fatigued  with  the  days  excur- 
sion, Robin  desired  to  return  home,  as  his  wing,  which 
had  been  bruised,  began  to  ache.  The  mother  bird 
also  was  anxious  to  return,  and  the  whole  family  took 
flight.  They  soon  arrived  at  Mrs.  Benson's,  where  they 
saw  her  and  Harriet  relieving  a  poor  woman,  whose 
husband  had  fallen  sick.  The  poor  woman  being  gone, 
the  redbreast  family  alighted,  and  being  soon  perceiv- 
ed by  Harriet,  she  called  her  brother  Frederic,  and 
they  cheerfully  fed  the  robins  with  some  crumbs  from 
the  tea-table.  This  proved  an  agreeable  refreshment 
to  the  feathered  family,  and  after  the  father  had  chant- 
ed his  most  pleasing  notes  as  a  token  of  thankfulness, 
they  flew  to  their  nest,  and  each  tucking  its  beak  un- 
der the  wing,  slept  till  the  morning  light  appearpd. 


REDBREAST    FAMILY.  101 

Dicky  being  first  awake,  ventured  to  fly  out  before 
his  parents;  but  soon  returned  to  tell  the  family  he 
had  seen  such  a  nice  black  and  white  creature,  with 
four  legs,  that  jumped  up  and  down  an  apple  tree,  and 
looked  so  pretty  he  thought  he  should  like  to  play  with 
it.  "  Let  us  see,"  said  the  father,  "  what  sort  of  an  ac- 
quaintance Dicky  has  found  now !"  The  whole  family 
took  the  wing,  and  soon  came  in  sight  of  a  pretty  cat ! 
"  A  pretty  creature,  to  be  sure,"  said  the  father,  "but, 
like  the  man  yesterday,  she  is  an  enemy  to  birds."  This 
had  not  been  long  said,  when  puss,  seeing  a  young 
chicken  that  had  strayed  from  the  hen  in  the  farm- 
yard, soon  sprung  upon  it  and  ran  away  with  it  in  her 
mouth.  Flapsy  and  Pecksy  screamed  out,  and  were 
going  to  fly  away  in  a  fright  :  but  the  father  hastily 
called  out,  "  Turn  this  way !  turn  this  way !"  The  whole 
party  obeyed,  and  soon  found  the  good  effects  of  their 
obedience,  for  in  an  instant  they  saw  a  flash  of  fire  ;  a 
thick  smoke  followed  it,  and  they  heard  a  dreadful 
sound ;  a  young  redstart  fell  bleeding  to  the  ground, 
on  which  he  struggled  just  long  enough  to  cry,  "  Oh  ! 
my  dear  father,  why  did  I  not  listen  to  your  kind  ad- 
monitions, which  I  now  find,  too  late,  were  given  in 
love  and  tenderness." 

The  little  redbreasts  were  struck  with  consterna- 
tion at  this  accident ;  and  Pecksy,  being  recovered 
soonest,  desired  to  know  how  the  redstart  was  killed. 
"  He  was  shot  to  death,"  said  he ;  "  and  if  you  had  not 
stopped  when  I  called,  it  might  have  proved  the  lot  of 
every  one  of  you."  The  experience  of  parents  teaches 
them  to  see  many  dangers  which  young  creatures  do 
not ;  therefore  you  should  never  more  stand,  as  you 
sometimes  have  done,  asking  why  we  tell  you  to  dc 
so ;  for  had  that  been  the  case  now,  those  who  were 
9* 


102  HISTORY   OF   THE 

in  a  direct  line  with  the  gunner  would  have  been 
shot! 

The  young  ones  all  promised  to  obey  ;  "  Do  so,"  said 
he ;  "but  in  order  to  this,  you  must  do  in  our  absence 
what  we  tell  you  when  present ;  for  some  kinds  of 
food  are  very  hurtful  to  your  health ;  these  you  should 
not  indulge  in  when  away  from  us,  neither  should  you 
engage  in  play  with  strange  birds,  who  may  lead  you 
into  mischief." 

This  poor  redstart  might  have  been  yet  alive,  had 
he  attended  to  the  advice  of  his  parents.  "  But,  fa- 
ther," said  Flapsy,  "  I  cannot  understand  how  the 
noise  we  heard  could  occasion  the  death  of  the  red- 
start." 

"  Neither  can  I  explain  it,  my  dear,"  replied  the  fa- 
ther ;  "  I  only  know  that  some  men  practise  this  sport 
with  birds,  and,  therefore,  it  is  always  prudent  to  avoid 
them.  Whenever  you  are  about  to  fly  from  the  or- 
chard, get  upon  a  high  tree  and  look  around  you ;  if 
you  see  any  men  or  boys,  take  a  different  course.  But 
now  let  us  refresh  ourselves,  and  then  go  to  another 
place  for  amusement."  Robin  complained  of  some 
pain  that  his  wing  gave  him  at  times,  and  was  very 
desirous  of  flying  but  a  little  way ;  "  Well,"  said  Dicky, 
"we  can  leave  him  behind,  and  look  for  him  as  we 
come  back ;"  but  the  mother  bird  observed,  this  would 
not  be  kind  usage,  and  hoped  Dicky  would  be  content 
with  such  a  treat  as  Robin  could  enjoy  with  them ;  as 
nothing  was  more  pleasing  than  to  see  brothers  and 
sisters  love  one  another. 

In  this  manner  the  redbreast  family  spent  the  great- 
est part  of  the  summer  ;  and  as  winter  approached,  the 
old  birds,  observing  their  young  ones  were  capable  of 
providing  for  themselves,  gave  them  the  best  of  ad- 


REDBREAST  FAMILY.  103 

vice.  Each  young  one  expressed  its  grateful  thanks. 
What  a  pleasing  scene  !  the  parents  had  performed 
their  duty,  and  the  young  ones  had  no  need  of  farther 
assistance.  They  ranged  the  fields  and  gardens,  sip- 
ped the  cool  streams,  and  joined  their  cheerful  notes 
with  other  gay  songsters  of  the  grove. 

As  winter  approached,  and  provision  for  birds  grew 
scarce,  they  resorted  to  their  kind  friends,  the  family 
of  the  Bensons ;  and  one  very  frosty  morning,  when 
the  ground  was  covered  with  snow,  they  received  a 
bountiful  supply  from  the  parlor  window,  where  they 
saw  Tommy  Long  and  his  sister  Emma,  who  had 
now  learned,  from  the  instructions  given  them  by  their 
friends,  and  from  the  example  of  Harriet  and  Frede- 
ric Benson,  not  to  treat  birds  or  animals  of  any  kind 
with  cruelty.  The  robins  found  a  constant  supply 
during  the  frost  and  snow  in  the  winter  ;  and  as  spring 
approached,  each  bird,  following  the  dictates  of  nature, 
chose  a  mate,  and  performed  the  duties  to  their  own 
young  ones,  that  they  had  experienced  the  advantage 
of  from  their  own  kind  parents. 

Happy  would  it  lie  for  the  animal  creation,  if  every 
human  being,  like  Mrs.  Benson,  consulted  the  welfare 
of  inferior  creatures,  and  neither  spoiled  them  by  in- 
dulgence, nor  injured  them  by  tyranny !  Happy  would 
mankind  be,  if  every  one,  like  her,  cultivated  in  their 
minds,  and  those  of  their  children,  the  divine  principle 

Of  UNIVERSAL  BENEVOLENCE. 


THE   BRAZIER. 

TBOM  THE  TALES  OS  THE  CASTLE 

THE  unfortunate  James  II.  of  England  was  obliged 
to  abandon  his  kingdom,  and  take  refuge  in  France ; 
where,  at  the  palace  of  St.  Germain,  Louis  XIV.  af- 
forded him  an  asylum.  A  few  loyal  subjects  followed 
him  in  his  retreat,  and  settled  at  St.  Germain ;  among 
whom  was  madame  de  Varonne,  descended  from  one 
of  the  best  families  in  Ireland,  and  whose  history  I  am 
going  to  recount. 

During  the  life  of  her  husband,  this  lady  lived  in 
ease  and  affluence ;  but,  after  his  death,  being  left  in  a 
foreign  country  without  protection,  she  had  not  suffi- 
cient interest  at  court  to  obtain  any  part  of  the  pension 
on  which  they  had  before  subsisted.  She  neglected 
not,  however,  to  present  petilions  to  the  ministers, 
who  always  answered,  they  would  lay  them  before  the 
king;  and  she  continued  in  suspense  for  more  than 
two  years;  till  at  last,  on  a  renewal  of  her  request, 
she  received  a  denial,  in  so  formal  and  positive  a  style, 
that  she  could  no  longer  be  blind  to  the  fate  that 
awaited  her. 

Her  situation  was  dreadful ;  ever  since  the  death  of 
M.  de  Varonne,  she  had  subsisted  by  selling  her  plate, 
and  part  of  her  furniture,  till  she  had  no  longer  any 
resource.  Her  love  of  solitude,  her  piety,  and  ill 


THE  BRAZIER.  105 

health,  had  always  prevented  her  mixing  much  with 
the  world;  and  still  less  than  ever,  since  the  death  of 
her  husband.  She  found  herself  then  without  support, 
without  friends,  without  hope ;  stripped  of  every  thing, 
plunged  into  a  state  of  frightful  misery ;  and,  that  the 
measure  of  her  woes  might  be  full,  she  was  fifty  years 
of  age,  and  her  constitution  was  feeble  and  infirm. 

In  this  her  day  of  distress,  she  had  recourse  to  Him 
who  best  could  grant  her  consolation  and  relief;  who 
soonest  could  change  the  severity  of  her  destiny ;  who 
most  certainly  could  give  her  fortitude  to  support  ca- 
lamity :  she  cast  herself  at  the  feet  of  the  Almighty, 
and  arose  with  confidence,  fortified  and  exalted  above 
herself,  and  with  the  full  assurance  of  a  calm  resigna- 
tion reviving  in  her  soul.  She  looked  with  a  steady  eye 
on  the  deplorable  scene  before  her,  and  said  to  herself, 
"  Since  it  is  the  inevitable  lot  of  mortals  to  die,  of  what 
importance  is  it  whether  we  die  by  famine,  or  disease; 
whether  we  sink  to  rest  under  a  golden  canopy,  or 
upon  a  bed  of  straw  ?  Will  death  be  less  welcome, 
because  I  have  nothing  to  regret  ?  Oh  no  !  I  shall 
need  neither  exhortation  nor  fortitude ;  I  have  no  sa- 
crifices to  make ;  abandoned  by  the  world,  I  shall  think 
only  of  Him  who  rules  the  world ;  shall  behold  Him 
ready  to  receive  me,  and  shall  rejoice  to  go  to  meet 
Him." 

While  she  was  in  the  midst  of  these  reflections, 
Ambrose,  her  footman,  entered  the  chamber.  It  is 
necessary  you  should  know  something  of  Ambrose ;  I 
will,  therefore,  give  you  a  few  traits  of  his  character. 

Ambrose  was  forty  years  of  age,  and  had  lived  with 
madame  de  Varonne  twenty.  He  was  naturally  blunt, 
apt  to  find  fault,  spoke  little,  and  always  appeared  to 
look  with  contempt  on  his  equals,  and  with  a  degree 


106  THE  BRAZIER. 

of  haughtiness  on  his  masters.  His  sullen  deportment 
and  dissatisfied  air,  made  his  attendance  not  very 
agreeable ;  but  his  punctuality,  good  conduct,  and  per- 
fect fidelity,  had  always  made  him  esteemed  as  a  most 
excellent  and  valuable  servant.  His  good  qualities, 
however,  were  only  known  in  part ;  for  he  possessed 
the  most  inflexible  virtue :  under  a  rough  exterior  was 
concealed  an  elevated  and  generous  soul. 

Madame  de  Varonne  had  discharged  the  servants  of 
her  husband  soon  aft'r  his  decease,  and  had  only  kept 
one  maid,  a  cook,  and  Ambrose;  but  the  time  was  now 
come,  in  which  she  must  part  with  these  likewise. 

Ambrose,  as  I  have  said,  entered  her  chamber  with 
a  log  of  wood,  which  he  was  going  to  put  on  the  fire, 
when  madame  de  Varonne  said  to  him,  "  I  want  to 
speak  to  you,  Ambrose."  The  tone  of  voice  in  which 
she  pronounced  these  words  alarmed  Ambrose,  who, 
flinging  down  his  log  upon  the  hearth,  exclaimed, 
"Madam,  what  is  the  matter?" 

"  Do  you  know  bow  much  I  owe  the  cook-maid, 
Ambrose  ?" 

"  You  neither  owe  her,  nor  me,  nor  Mary,  any  thing; 
you  paid  us  all  yesterday." 

"  True ;  that  was  not  what  I  meant  to  say — I — 
Ambrose,  you  must  tell  the  cook  and  -Mary,  I  have  no 
further  occasion  for  their  services.  And  you,  my  good 
Ambrose — you  must  seek  another  place." 

"  Another  place  !  What  do  you  mean  ?  No ;  I  will 
live  and  die  in  your  service;  let  what  will  happen,  I 
will  never  quit  you." 

"  You  do  not  know  my  situation,  Ambrose." 

"  Madam,  you  do  not  know  Ambrose.  If  they  have 
lessened  your  pension  so  that  you  cannot  maintain 
your  other  servants,  so  be  it;  you  must  part  with 


THE  BRAZIER.  107 

them  ;  it  cannot  be  helped :  but  I  hope  I  have  not  de- 
served to  be  turned  away  too.  I  am  not  mercenary, 
madam,  and — " 

"  But  I  am  ruined,  Ambrose,  totally  ruined.  I  have 
sold  every  thing  I  had  to  sell ;  and  they  have  taken 
away  my  pension." 

"Taken  away  your  pension!  That  cannot  be;  it 
cannot  be." 

"  It  is  nevertheless  very  true." 

"  Taken  away  your  pension  !     Oh  God  !" 

"We  must  adore  the  decrees  of  Providence,  Am- 
brose, and  submit  without  repining :  the  greatest  con- 
solation I  find  amidst  my  misfortunes,  is  to  be  perfectly 
resigned.  Alas !  How  many  other  unhappy  beings, 
on  the  wide  surface  of  this  earth,  how  many  virtuous 
families,  are  in  my  situation !  I  have  no  children ; 
my  sufferings  will  be  few,  for  I  shall  suffer  alone." 

"  No — no — no  !"  replied  Ambrose,  with  a  broken 
voice;  "no,  you  shall  not  suffer;  I  have  an  arm,  and 
can  work." 

"  My  good  Ambrose,"  answered  madame  de  Va- 
ronne.  "  I  never  doubted  your  attachment  to  me,  but  I 
will  not  abuse  your  kindness :  all  that  I  desire  you  to 
do  for  me,  is  to  hire  a  small  chamber,  a  garret ;  I  have 
still  money  enough  to  support  me  for  two  or  three 
months;  I  can  work,  I  can  spin.  Find  some  employ- 
ment for  me,  if  you  can,  and  that  is  all  I  wish;  all  I 
can  admit — ." 

While  she  expressed  herself  in  this  manner,  Am- 
brose stood  fixed  in  silence,  contemplating  his  mis- 
tress; and  when  she  had  finished,  casting  himself  at 
her  feet,  exclaimed :  "  Oh,  my  dear,  my  honored  mis- 
tress, hear  the  determination  of  your  poor  Ambrose, 
who  is  resolved  to  serve  you  to  the  end  of  his  life ;  ?aid 


108  TH£  BRAZIER. 

more  willingly,  with  more  respect,  more  ready  obedi- 
ence, than  ever  he  did  before.  You  have  fed  me, 
.clothed  me,  and  given  me  the  means  of  living  happy, 
for  more  than  twenty  years  ;  I  have  often  abused  your 
bounty,  and  trespassed  on  your  patience.  Pardon, 
madam,  the  errors  which  a  defective  temper  has  occa- 
sioned me  to  commit,  and  be  assured  I  will  make  you 
reparation.  It  is  for  that  purpose  only  I  pray  the  Fa- 
ther of  Mercies  to  spare  my  life."  When  he  had  end- 
ed, he  rose,  and  suddenly  ran  out  of  the  room,  without 
waiting  for  a  reply. 

You  will  easily  imagine  what  feelings  of  lively 
gratitude  filled  the  heart  of  madame  de  Varonne ; 
she  found  the  sympathy  and  kindness  of  her  faithful 
servant  an  alleviation  of  her  distress.  Ambrose  re- 
turned in  a  few  minutes,  bringing  in  a  little  bag,  which 
ne  laid  upon  the  table.  "  Thanks  to  you,  madam,  and 
to  my  late  master,  I  have  saved  these  thirty  guineas ; 
from  you  they  came,  and  to  you  have  a  right  to  return." 

"  What,  Ambrose  !  rob  you  of  the  labor  of  twenty 
years !  I  cannot  take  them." 

"  When  you  had  money,  madam,  you  gave  it  to  me ; 
now  you  have  none,  I  give  it  back  again  ;  and  this  is 
all  money  is  good  for.  I  dare  say,  madam,  you  have 
not  forgot  that  I  am  the  son  of  a  brazier :  this  was  my 
first  profession,  which  I  still  am  master  of;  for  at 
those  moments  when  I  had  nothing  to  do  in  the  fami- 
ly, I  have  gone  and  assisted  Nicault,  one  of  my  coun- 
trymen, rather  than  be  idle.  I  will  now  return  to  my 
trade  in  earnest,  and  with  a  hearty  good  will." 

"  This  is  too  much,"  cried  madame  de  Varonne ; 
"  how  can  I  endure  you  should  suffer  thus  for  me  ?" 

"  Suffer,  madam,  in  laboring,  and  when  my  labor  is 
so  useful,  so  necessary  ?  no ;  it  will  be  happiness. 


THE  BRAZIER.  101/ 

Nicault  is  a  good,  a  worthy  man,  and  will  not  let  me 
want;  his  reputation  is  established  in  the  town,  and 
he  is  in  need  of  just  such  an  assistant;  I  am  strong,  I 
can  do  as  much  work  as  two  men  ;  we  shall  do  very 
well."  Tears  filled  the  eyes  of  madame  de  Varonne, 
and  she  was  unable  to  reply. 

The  day  following,  the  other  two  servants  were  dis- 
charged, and  Ambrose  hired  a  small,  light,  and  neat 
room,  up  three  flights  of  stairs,  which  he  furnished 
with  the  remainder  of  his  mistress'  furniture.  Thither 
he  conducted  her.  She  had  a  good  bed,  an  easy  chair, 
a  small  table,  a  writing  desk,  with  pen,  ink,  and  pa- 
per, a  few  books,  which  were  arranged  on  four  or  five 
shelves,  and  a  large  wardrobe,  in  which  was  contained 
her  linen,  her  wearing  apparel,  a  provision  of  thread 
for  her  work,  a  silver  fork  and  spoon,  for  Ambrose 
would  not  suffer  her  to  eat  with  pewter,  and  the  lea- 
thern purse  which  contained  the  thirty  guineas.  There 
were  besides,  in  one  corner  of  the  room,  behind  the 
curtain,  such  earthen  vessels  as  were  necessary  for  her 
cookery. 

"  This,  madam,"  said  Ambrose,  "  is  the  best  cham- 
ber I  have  been  able  to  get,  for  the  price  you  men- 
tioned; there  is  but  one  room,  but  the  girl  will  sleep 
upon  a  mattress,  which  lies  rolled  up  under  your  bed." 

"  How !  a  girl,  Ambrose  ?" 

"Certainly,  madam;  how  could  you  do  without? 
She  will  go  errands,  help  to  dress  and  undress  you, 
and  do  other  necessary  offices." 

"  Nay,  but,  Ambrose — " 

"  She  will  cost  you  little ;  she  is  only  thirteen,  de- 
sires no  wages,  and  will  live  very  well  on  what  you 
leave.  As  for  me,  I  have  settled  every  thing  with 
Nicault ;  I  told  him  I  was  obliged  to  leave  you,  was 
10 


110  THE  BRAZIER. 

out  of  employment,  and  should  be  glad  of  work ;  he  is 
an  honest  man,  and  my  countryman ;  it  is  only  a  step 
from  this,  and  he  is  to  give  me  ten  pence  a  day,  and 
my  board  and  lodging.  Living  is  cheap  in  this  town, 
and  you,  madam,  will,  I  hope,  be  able  to  live  on  the 
ten  pence  a  day,  and  the  ready  money  you  have  to 
supply  extraordinary  occasions.  I  did  not  choose  to 
say  all  this  before  your  new  servant,  Susannah,  but  I 
will  now  go  and  bring  her." 

Ambrose  here  stepped  out,  and  presently  returned, 
leading  in  a  tidy,  honest-looking  girl,  whom  he  pre- 
sented to  madame  de  Varonne,  informing  her  she  was 
the  young  person  concerning  whom  he  had  spoken  to 
her.  "  Her  parents,"  said  he,  "  are  poor,  but  industri- 
ous ;  they  have  six  children,  and  you,  madam,  will  do 
a  kindness  by  taking  this  their  eldest  into  your  ser- 
vice." Then,  taking  his  leave  of  madame  de  Varonne, 
Ambrose  went  to  his  new  employment  with  his  friend 
Nicault. 

Madame  de  Varonne  was  astonished,  not  only  at 
the  generosity,  but  the  sudden  change  of  temper  and 
behavior  in  Ambrose.  He,  who  before  had  been  so 
blunt  and  peevish,  was  now  as  kind,  respectful  and 
delicate,  as  he  was  heroic.  In  imposing  obligations 
upon  madame  de  Varonne,  he  used  every  precaution 
to  avoid  wounding  her  sensibilities. 

The  next  day  madame  de  Varonne  saw  nothing  of 
Ambrose  till  the  evening,  when  he  just  called,  and, 
contriving  to  have  Susan  sent  out  for  a  moment,  he 
drew  from  his  pocket  a  bit  of  paper,  in  which  his  day's 
wages  were  wrapped,  laid  it  on  the  table,  and  said, 
"  There,  madam,  is  my  small  mite ;"  then,  calling  in 
Susan,  staid  not  for  an  answer,  but  returned  to  his 
friend  Nicault.  How  sweet  must  have  been  his  sleep 


THE  BRAZIER.  Ill 

after  such  labor !  how  pleasing  his  dreams  after  a  day 
so  spent !  how  cheerful  was  he  when  he  awaked !  If 
we  are  so  happy  afttr  doing  a  good  deed,  how  inex- 
pressible must  be  the  pleasure  of  a  heroic  action. 

Ambrose,  faithful  to  the  sublime  duties  he  had  im- 
posed upon  himself,  paid  every  day  a  visit  to  madame 
de  Varonne,  to  leave  with  her  the  fruits  of  his  indus- 
try; he  only  expended  as  much  at  the  end  of  each 
month  as  would  pay  his  washer-woman,  and  some 
few  other  necessary  expenses ;  nor  would  he  retain 
that  small  sum,  but  asked  it  as  a  gift  of  his  mistress. 
In  vain  did  madame  de  Varonne  persuade  him  she 
could  live  on  less ;  he  would  not  hear  her,  or  if  he  did, 
it  was  with  evident  pain. 

Madame  de  Varonne,  on  her  part,  hoping  to  give 
some  respite  to  the  labors  of  Ambrose,  worked  without 
ceasing  at  knitting.  Susan  assisted  her,  and  went  to 
sell  the  product  of  her  industry ;  but  when  she  spoke 
to  Ambrose  of  this,  and  exaggerated  the  profits,  he 
would  only  reply,  "  So  much  the  better  ;  I  am  glad  of 
it,"  and  immediately  change  the  subject  Time  pro- 
duced no  alteration  in  his  conduct;  during  four  years 
he  never  in  the  least  varied  from  the  virtuous  ardor 
with  which  he  began. 

One  night,  as  madame  de  Varonne  sat  expecting 
Ambrose  as  usual,  the  servant  of  Nicault  entered  her 
chamber,  to  tell  her  Ambrose  was  so  ill  he  Avas  obliged 
to  be  put  to  bed.  Madame  de  Varonne  instantly  de- 
sired the  girl  to  conduct  her  to  her  master's  house,  and 
at  the  same  time  ordered  Susan  to  go  for  a  physician. 
Nicault,  who  had  never  seen  her  before,  was  a  good 
deal  surprised:  she  desired  him  to  show  her  the  apart- 
ment of  Ambrose. 

"  The  apartment,  my  lady !  it  is  impossible." 


112  THE  BRAZIEK. 

"  Impossible  !  how  ?  why  ?" 

"  One 's  obliged  to  go  up  a  ladder  to  get  into  the  loft 
where  he  lies,  your  ladyship." 

"  A  ladder ! — and  a  loft !  Poor  Ambrose  !  go — show 
me  where  it  is." 

"  But  your  ladyship  Avill  break  your  ladyship's  neck, 
besides,  it  is  such  a  hole;  your  ladyship  cannot  stand 
upright." 

-Madame  de  Varonne  could  not  restrain  her  tears  ; 
she  begged  Nicault  would  instantly  show  her  the  way, 
and  he  brought  her  to  the  foot  of  a  little  ladder,  which 
she  had  much  difficulty  to  climb ;  this  led  her  into  a 
dismal  loft,  in  one  corner  of  which  Ambrose  was  lying 
upon  a  bed  of  straw. 

"  Oh  !  Ambrose,"  cried  she,  "  in  \vhat  a  situation  do 
I  find  you !  And  you  told  me  you  had  a  good  lodg- 
ing, that  you  were  perfectly  satisfied." 

Ambrose  was  not  in  a  condition  to  reply,  for  he  had 
been,  for  some  time,  delirious. 

Susan  at  last  arrived,  followed  by  the  physician, 
who  was  evidently  surprised,  at  entering  such  an 
apartment,  to  see  a  lady,  whose  mien  and  superior 
deportment  bespoke  her  rank,  weeping  in  despair  over 
a  poor  journeyman  brazier  in  a  straw  bed.  He  ap- 
proached the  sick  person,  examined  him  attentively, 
and  said  they  had  called  him  too  late. 

Imagine  the  condition  of  madame  de  Varonne  when 
she  heard  the  sentence  pronounced. 

"Ah,  poor  Ambrose!"  said  Nicault;  "but  it's  all 
his  own  fault:  he  has  been  ill  for  these  eight  days 
past,  but  he  would  keep  on  ;  there  was  no  persuading 
him ;  he  would  work.  At  last  he  could  not  hold  up 
his  head  any  longer,  but  for  all  that  we  had  much  ado 
to  get  him  to  bed.  He  undertook  more  than  he  could 


THE  BKAZIEK.  .  113 

go  through,  that  he  might  board  and  lodge  with  us, 
and  so  now  he  has  killed  himself  with  downright  labor." 

Madame  de  Varonne  seemed  deeply  afflicted,  and  ad- 
dressing herself  to  the  physician,  she  conjured  him  not 
to  abandon  Ambrose.  He  was  a  man  of  humanity ; 
and  besides,  his  curiosity  was  strongly  incited  by  every 
thing  he  had  heard  and  seen  ;  he  therefore  readily  en- 
gaged to  spend  part  of  the  night  with  his  patient.  Ma- 
dame de  Varonne  then  sent  for  bedding,  blankets,  and 
sheets,  and,  with  the  assistance  of  Susan,  made  up  a 
bed,  on  which  Ambrose  was  gently  laid  by  Nicaultand 
the  physician  ;  after  which  she  sat  down  and  watched 
beside  him. 

About  four  in  the  morning  the  physician  went,  after 
he  had  bled  the  patient,  and  promised  to  return  at  noon. 
As  for  madame  de  Varonne,  you  may  easily  imagine 
she  never  quitted  him  a  moment ;  she  remained  eight- 
and-forty  hours  at  his  bed-side,  without  the  least  hope ; 
at  last,  on  the  third  day,  the  physician  thought  he  per- 
ceived some  favorable  symptoms,  and  at  night  declar- 
ed him  out  of  danger. 

I  shall  not  attempt  to  describe  the  joy  of  madame 
de  Varonne  when  she  saw  Ambrose  out  of  danger; 
she  would  have  watched  the  night  following,  but  Am- 
brose, who  was  now  no  longer  delirious,  would  by  no 
means  consent,  and  she  returned  home,  overcome  with 
fatigue.  The  physician  came  on  the  morrow  to  visit 
her,  and  she  was  so  much  obliged  to  him,  so  grateful 
for  the  vast  attention  he  had  paid  to  Ambrose,  that  she 
could  not  refuse  to  answer  his  question :  she  related 
her  history,  and  satisfied  his  curiosity.  Three  days 
after  this,  he  was  obliged  to  return  suddenly  to  Paris, 
for  he  did  not  reside  at  St.  Germain,  leaving  madame 
de  Varonne  in  good  health,  and  Ambrose  recovering, 
10* 


114  THE  BRAZIER. 

The  situation  of  madame  de  Varonne,  however,  was 
at  this  instant  as  critical  as  it  was  distressing :  in  a 
week  she  had  expended  on  Ambrose  what  little  money 
she  possessed,  except  just  enough  to  supply  them  for 
four  or  five  days.  But  Ambrose  could  not,  "without 
the  most  imminent  danger,  begin  to  work  again  so  soon, 
and  she  shuddered  with  fear  lest  necessity  should  urge 
him  to  labor  once  more  at  the  hazard  of  his  life.  Then 
it  was  that  she  felt  all  the  horror  of  want,  and  re- 
proached herself  most  bitterly  for  having  accepted  the 
money  of  the  generous  Ambrose.  "  Had  it  not  been  for 
me,"  said  she, "  he  would  have  been  happy ;  his  industry 
would  have  procured  him  a  comfortable  livelihood ; 
his  faithful  attachment  to  me  has  robbed  him  of  ease, 
health,  and  happiness ;  nay,  yet,  perhaps  of  life.  And 
I  must  sink  to  the  grave  without  acquitting  this  vast 
obligation." 

One  evening,  as  madame  de  Varonne  sat  absorbed 
in  these  melancholy  reflections,  Susan  came  running, 
out  of  breath,  to  tell  her  that  a  great  lady  Avanted  to 
speak  with  her. 

"A  lady!"  said  her  mistress;  "what lady?  You 
are  mistaken." 

"  No,  no,  be  quick,"  answered  Susan  ;  "  I  saw  hei 
myself,  and  she  said,  says  she,  '  I  want  to  speak  with 
madame  de  Varonne,  who  lives  up  three  pairs  of  stair? 
at  M.  Daviet's ;'  she  said  this  out  of  her  coach  win- 
dow ;  so,  as  I  happened  to  be  standing  at  the  door  and 
heard  her,  I  said,  says  I,  '  An't  please  your  ladyship ;' 
and  so,  says  she,  '  Go,  my  dear,  and  tell  madame  de  Va- 
ronne, that  I  beg  she  will  do  me  the  honor  to  permit 
me  to  speak  a  few  words  with  her.' " 

Susan  was  interrupted  by  two  or  three  gentle  taps 
on  the  door,  which  madame  de  Varonne.  with  agitation. 


THE  BRAZIEK.        -  115 

rose  to  open.  The  lady  who  stood  before  it  entered 
with  an  air  of  diffidence  and  respect.  Madame  de  Va- 
ronne  ordered  Susan  to  leave  the  room,  and  as  soon  as 
they  were  alone,  the  unknown  lady  began  the  con- 
versation, by  saying,  "I  am  happy,  madam,  in  being 
the  first  to  inform  you,  that  the  king  has  at  last  come 
to  the  knowledge  of  your  situation,  and  that  his  good- 
ness means  hereafter  to  recompense  you  for  the  former 
injustice  of  fortune  towards  you."  "Oh,  Ambrose!" 
exclaimed  madame  de  Varonne,  with  an  expression  of 
joy  and  gratitude  in  her  countenance. 

Her  visitant  could  not  refrain  from  tears.  She  ap- 
proached madame  de  Varonne,  and  taking  her  affec- 
tionately by  the  hand,  said,  "  Come,  madam,  come  to  the 
apartments  that  are  prepared  for  you,  come." 

"Oh!  madam,"  interrupted  madame  de  Varonne, 
"what  can  I  say?  how  speak?  Yet,  if  I  durst — I  beg 
your  pardon ;  but,  madam,  I  have  a  benefactor — such 
a  benefactor !  suffer  me  to  tell  you  how — " 

"  I  will  leave  you  at  full  liberty,"  said  the  lady ;  "  and 
lest  my  company  should  at  present  be  the  least  em- 
barrassment, I  will  not  even  go  with  you  to  your 
house ;  I  shall  return  homewards ;  but  first  I  must  con- 
duct you  to  your  coach,  which  waits  at  the  door." 

"My  coach!" 

"  Yes,  dear  madam  ;  come,  let  us  lose  no  time." 

In  saying  this,  she  presented  her  arm  to  madame  de 
Varonne,  who  scarce  had  power  to  descend  the  stairs. 
When  they  had  reached  the  door,  the  lady  desired 
one  of  her  footmen  to  call  madame  de  Varonne' 's  servants. 
She  thought  herself  in  a  dream,  and  her  astonishment 
increased  when  she  saw  the  footman  beckon  the  car- 
riage, which  was  simple  and  elegant,  to  the  door,  let 
iown  the  step,  and  heard  him  say,  "  My  lady's  carriage 


116  THE  BRAZIER. 

P 

is  ready."  The  unknown  lady  then  accompanied  her 
to  her  coach,  took  her  leave,  and  stepped  into  her  own 
carriage. 

Madame  de  Varonne's  footman  waited  to  receive  her 
orders,  and  she,  with  a  trembling  voice,  desired  to  be 
drove  to  the  house  of  Nicault,  the  brazier. 

The  first  object  she  beheld  as  she  entered  was  Am- 
brose— Ambrose  himself,  in  his  working  dress,  scarce 
out  of  the  bed  of  sickness,  and  again,  notwithstanding 
his  weakness,  endeavoring  to  labor.  Her  emotions  are 
not  to  be  described ;  he  was  laboring  for  her,  and  she 
came  to  snatch  him  from  these  painful  labors,  to  re- 
lease him  from  fatigue  and  misery. 

"  Come,"  cried  she  with  transport ;  "  come,  noble 
Ambrose ;  follow  me ;  quit  your  labors  and  your  cares ; 
they  are  ended ;  your  fate  is  changed ;  delay  not  a 
moment,  but  come." 

In  vain  did  the  astonished  Ambrose  beg  an  explana- 
tion ;  in  vain  did  he  desire  time  at  least  to  put  on  his 
Sunday  clothes ;  madame  de  Varonne  was  incapable  of 
hearing,  or  of  answering ;  she  took  hold  of  his  arm, 
dragged  him  along,  and  obliged  him  to  get  into  the 
carriage. 

"  Would  you  please,  madam,  to  be  driven  to  your 
new  house  ?"  said  the  servant. 

"  Yes,"  said  she,  fixing  her  eyes  upon  Ambrose, 
"  yes,  drive  us  to  our  new  house." 

Away  they  went,  and  madame  de  Varonne  recounted 
every  thing  as  it  happened  to  Ambrose,  who  listened 
with  a  joy  mixed  with  fear  and  doubt :  he  scarcely 
durst  believe  in  happiness  so  extraordinary,  so  unlock- 
ed for.  The  carriage,  at  length,  stopped  at  a  neat  lit- 
tle house,  in  the  forest  de  St.  Germain,  and  they  alight- 
ed ;  as  they  entered  the  hall,  they  were  met  by  the  un- 


THE  BRAZIER.  117 

known  lady,  who  had  been  waiting  for  their  arrival, 
and  who  presented  a  paper  to  madame  de  Varonne. 

"The  king,"  said  she,  "has  deigned  to  charge  me 
with  this,  madam,  that  I  might  remit  it  to  you ;  it  is 
a  brevet  for  a  pension  of  ten  thousand  livres  (four 
hundred  guineas)  a  year,  with  a  liberty  of  leaving 
half  the  sum  to  Avhoever  you  shall  please  to  nominate 
at  your  decease." 

"  This  is  indeed  a  benefaction,"  cried  madame  de 
Varonne.  "  Behold  that  person,  madam  ;  behold  that 
nobly  virtuous  man,  who  is  truly  worthy  of  your  pro- 
tection, and  the  favor  of  his  sovereign." 

Ambrose,  who  had  at  first  placed  himself  behind  his 
mistress,  felt  his  embarrassment  increase  at  these 
words,  and,  taking  off  his  cap,  retreated  with  a  bashful 
air;  for,  notwithstanding  the  excess  of  his  joy,  he  felt 
a  painful  confusion  at  hearing  himself  so  much  prais- 
ed ;  besides  that  he  was  a  little  vexed  to  be  seen,  for 
the  first  time,  by  so  fine  a  lady,  in  his  leathern  apron 
and  dirty  jacket,  and  could  not  help  regretting,  in  some 
degree,  the  want  of  his  Sunday  clothes. 

The  unknown  lady  following,  cried,  "  Stop,  Ambrose, 
stop  ;  let  me  look  at  you."  "  Dear  madam,"  said  Am- 
brose, bowing,  "I  have  done  nothing  but  what  was 
very  natural ;  nothing  to  astonish  any  one." 

Here  madame  de  Varonne  interrupted  him,  to  relate 
how  much  she  owed  her  support,  her  all,  her  life  itself, 
to  Ambrose. 

The  strange  lady  seemed  much  affected.  "Have  I, 
at  last,  after  meeting  with  so  much  of  coldness  and 
selfishness  in  the  world,  have  I  met  with  two  individu- 
als of  noble,  generous,  grateful  hearts  ?"  she  exclaim- 
ed. "Adieu,  madam,"  she  continued,  "adieu;  may 
you  be  always  happy." 


118  THE  BRAZIER  . 

She  had  scarcely  taken  her  departure  befort,  the  door 
again  opened,  and  the  physician,  to  whom  Ambrose 
owed  his  life,  entered.  Madame  de  Varonne,  the  mo- 
ment she  beheld  him,  immediately  comprehended  the 
whole  affair.  After  having  testified  the  gratitude  with 
which  her  heart  overflowed,  she  learnt  from  him  that 
the  unknown  lady  was  madame  de  P**,  who  resided 
always  at  Versailles,  where  she  had  great  influence. 
"  I  have  been  her  physician,"  said  he,  "  for  these  ten 
years ;  I  knew  her  benevolence,  and  was  certain  she 
would  interest  herself  exceedingly  in  your  behalf,  when 
she  Lad  heard  of  your  history.  No  sooner,  indeed,  had 
P  related  it,  than  she  began  to  verity  my  hopes;  she 
purchased  this  house,  and  obtained  the  pension  of  which 
she  has  given  you  the  brevet." 

The  feelings  with  which  madame  de  Varonne  and 
the  faithful  Ambrose  contrasted  their  present  situation 
with  what  it  was  only  a  few  hours  before,  can  be  ap- 
preciated only  by  the  tru'y  grateful  and  feeling  mind. 

You  may  well  suppose  that  madame  de  Varonne, 
during  her  whole  life, 'caused  Ambrose  to  partake  ot 
her  fortune,  and  that  she  never  received  meney  with- 
out recollecting,  with  the  utmost  susceptibility,  the 
time  when  the  faithful  Ambrose  brought  his  day's  wa- 
ges in  a  bit  of  paper,  laid  it  upon  the  table,  and  said, 
"  There,  madam,  is  my  small  mite." 


THE  CHEAPSIDE  APPRENTICE. 

ATTEND,  ye  young  men,  who  are  about  to  enter  into 
trade,  for  to  you  I  write  my  story.  I  was  bound  ap- 
prentice to  a  respectable  tradesman  in  Cheapside.  My 
master,  Mr.  Vincent,  had  acquired  a  very  fair  char- 
acter, whilst  he  was  -making  a  comfortable  fortune. 
His  wife  was  a  dressy,  dashing  woman,  who  liked 
visiting  and  jaunting  more  than  taking  care  of  her 
family.  AVhilst  rny  master  was  plodding  late  at  night  in 
the  compting-house,  Mrs.  Vincent  and  her  daughters 
were  either  making  parties  abroad,  or  giving  enter- 
tainments at  home.  As  we  kept  no  footman,  I  was 
allowed,  when  the  shop  was  shut,  to  run  from  one 
public  place  to  another  to  call  a  coach,  to  bring  Mrs. 
Vincent  and  her  daughters  home.  To  lounging  about 
the  purlieus  of  a  play-house,  I  owe  my  ruin.  I  was 
generally  allowed  to  be  a  handsome  young  man  5  this, 
unfortunately,  drew  upon  me  the  notice  of  a  set  of 
those  wretched  women,  who  nightly  crowd  the  theatres ; 
I  should  have  been  delighted  with  the  notice  they  took 
of  me,  had  not  my  vanity  whispered  me  that  Miss 
Vincent  was  in  love  with  me.  This  suspicion  was 
fully  confirmed  to  me  by  one  Potter,  an  elder  appren- 
tice, but  for  whose  wicked  advice  I  might  have  lived 
happily,  and  died  virtuously. 

The  idea  that  Miss  Vincent  was  in  love  with  me,  at 
once  completed  me  for  the  coxcomb.  I  now  neglected 
my  business,  and  to  dress  out  my  person  became  the 
only  object  of  my  thoughts:  I  began  to  commit  little 
fraud's  on  my  master,  in  order  to  obtain  money  to  dresa' 


120  THE    CHEAPSIDE    APPRENTICE. 

out ;  for  ever  since  Potter  had  laughed  me  out  of  my 
religion,  every  principle  of  moral  honesty  sat  loosely 
upon  me. 

I  am  sorry  to  say  the  holy  Sabbath  in  our  family 
was  only  distinguished  from  other  days  by  the  shutting 
of  the  shop  ;  my  master  spent  the  greater  part  of  it  in 
posting  his  books,  anil  my  mistress  and  her  daughters 
were  either  dressing  to  go  abroad,  or  else  to  receive 
company  at  home.  We  young  men,  indeed,  were 
sent  to  church  ;  but  as  we  had  no  examples  set  us  by 
the  heads  of  the  family  going  thither  themselves,  Potter 
and  I  generally  hired  a  gig  and  dashed  away  frot  one 
tea-drinking  place  to  another  ;  these  scenes  soon  made 
me  lose  all  respect  for  virtue  and  religion.  It  v.  as  at 
the  Dog  and  Duck  I  first  saw  the  infamous  Miss  West ; 
she  was  many  years  older  than  myself:  her  person 
was  as  lovely  as  her  heart  was  wicked.  She  was  no 
sooner  informed  that  I  was  to  come  into  possession  of 
£3000  the  day  I  came  of  age,  than  she  made  use  of  all 
her  deceitful  arts  to  ensnare  both  my  soul  and  body, 
as  she  often  prompted  me  to  defraud  my  master  to 
supply  her  extravagance.  My  attachment  to  Miss 
Vincent  was  now  on  the  decline,  for  Miss  West  had 
so  far  wrought  upon  my  vanity,  as  to  make  me  believe 
that  so  handsome  a  young  fellow  as  I  was  should  look 
higher  than  a  tradesman's  daughter.  From  that  moment 
I  treated  Miss  Vincent  with  the  most  marked  neglect, 
although  I  saw  my  conduct  cut  her  to  the  heart ;  yet, 
at  the  same  time,  was  I  base  enough,  to  borrow  money 
of  her,  which  I  wantonly  squandered  away  on  Miss 
West. 

When  Potter's  apprenticeship  expired,  instead  of 
improving  his  fortune  by  throwing  it  into  trade,  he 
plunged  at  once  into  all  the  vices  of  the  town.  He 


THE  CHEAPS1UE   APPREJSTICE.  121 

possessed  a  plausible  kind  of  speech,  which  caused  him 
be  appointed  chairman  to  our  club,  which  was  chiefly 
composed  of  clerks  and  apprentice  boys.  Potter's  prin- 
cipal excellence  consisted  in  singing  a  merry  song, 
telling  an  indecent  story,  and  teaching  his  hearers  to 
laugh  at  morality,  and  set  all  religion  at  defiance  ;  for 
religion,  he  maintained,  was  only  an  old  woman's  tale, 
invented  by  cunning  heads  to  keep  children  and  fools 
in  order. 

There  was  an  honest  old  porter  in  our  family,  who 
for  some  time  had  set  himself  to  watch  my  conduct, 
and  at  length  he  made  such  a  faithful  report  of  it  to  my 
master,  that  he  gave  up  my  indentures,  and  turned  me 
out  of  doors. 

I  was  too  much  delighted  with  my  liberty  to  feel  any 
sense  of  shame  at  the  means  by  which  I  obtained  it. 

I  was  sorry,  however,  to  break  off  entirely  with  Miss 
Vincent ;  for  I  still  had  a  lurking  affection  for  her  ;  I 
told  Potter  so :  his  inventive  genius  soon  laid  a  plan 
whereby  I  might  get  her  into  my  power,  and  take  a 
complete  revenge  on  her  whole  family  at  the  same 
time.  This  was  by  writing  her  a  letter,  setting  forth 
the  violence  of  my  love,  the  unmerited  disgrace  I  had 
received  from  her  family,  and  at  the  same  time  re- 
questing her  to  grant  me  a  private  meeting,  in  order 
that  I  might  justify  my  conduct  to  her,  as  otherwise  I 
feared  the  violence  of  my  passion  would  drive  me  to  a 
fit  of  despair. 

This  poor  imprudent  girl  met  me  at  the  time  and 
place  appointed.  I  will  not  here  shock  my  readers 
with  relating  the  vile  stratagems  I  made  use  of  to  com- 
plete the  ruin  of  this  young  lady,  nor  the  tremendous 
oaths  I  swore  to  repair  her  wrongs  by  marriage,  as 
soon  as  I  came  of  age,  which  would  be  in  a  very  few 
11 


122  THK    CHEAPSIDE    APPRENTICE. 

months.  This  somewhat  abated  her  sorrow  for  the 
very  indiscreet  step  she  had  taken. 

The  da}7  I  became  of  age,  I  went  down  into  the 
country.  My  friends  having  been  apprized  of  my  pro- 
fligate life,  received  me  very  coldly.  I  practised  the 
deepest  hypocrisy  on  my  good  mother,  to  make  her 
believe  I  was  quite  a  reformed  man,  in  order  to  whee- 
dle her  out  of  a  sum  of  money,  telling  her  at  the  same 
time,  I  had  an  immediate  prospect  of  entering  into  a 
very  profitable  concern  with  a  partner  of  great  respon- 
sibility, if  I  could  but  increase  my  capital. 

"  Frank,"  said  she,  with  firmness,  "  there  is  no  trus- 
ting to  your  promises  ;  as  long  as  your  conduct  deser- 
ved my*love,  you  ever  found  me  an  indulgent  mother; 
but  you  shall  never  have  cause  to  say,  I  acted  towards 
you  like  a  weak  woman,  by  robbing  my  virtuous  chil- 
dren, to  supply  the  wanton  extravagance  of  a  profligate 
son.  Your  wicked  life,  Frank,  has  nearly  broken  my 
heart,  but  it  shall  not  shake  my  justice."  The  well- 
known  steadiness  of  my  mother's  temper  convinced  me 
ut  once  she  was  not  further  to  be  imposed  upon  by  the 
fallacy  of  my  arguments. 

As  soon  as  I  had  settled  my  business,  I  returned  to 
London  to  Miss  Vincent,  who  haJ  waited  for  me  with 
the  utmost  patience,  fully  expecting  I  was  come  to 
fulfil  my  promise  of  marriage  to  her.  "  I  can  struggle 
with  want,,  dear  Frank,"  said  sire,  "  bm  I  will  never 
consent  to  live  in  shame." 

Nothing  I  am  certain  hardens  .the  heart  like  vice  ; 
for  although  this  poor  young  creature  was  brought  into 
a  very  trying  situation  by  the  prospect  of  her  soon 
becoming  a  mother,  I  swore  I  would  never  make  her 
my  wife,  who  had  disgraced  herself  by  living  with  me 
as  a  nu'stress.  On  hearing  this,  in  all  the  tender 


THE    CHEAPSIDE   APPRENTICE.  123 

agonies  of  grief,  she  urged  me  to  repair  the  wrongs  I 
had  done  her,  reminding  me  at  the  same  time,  of  the 
wicked  arts  I  had  made  use  of  to  beguile  her  of  her  in- 
nocence, and  then  with  clasped  hands  and  streaming 
eyes,  she  threw  herself  on  her  knees  before  me,  be- 
seeching me  to  pity  the  agonies  which  rent  her  soul. 
Yet  still  my  hardened  nature  was  untouched  by  her 
sorrow  ;  again  I  solemnly  swore  I  never  would  marry 
her. 

Through  excess  of  grief  she  fainted  away,  in  which 
pitiable  state  I  left  her  to  the  care  of  a  servant,  went 
out  and  spent  the  rest  of  the  evening  with  Miss  West, 
whose  flinty  heart  turned  into  ridicule  the  sorrowful 
tale  I  related  to  her. 

On  returning  to  my  lodgings  the  next  morning,  I  was 
informed  Miss  Vincent  had  left  them  without  leaving 
behind  her  the  least  information  where  she  was  to  be 
found,  and  much  did  I  rejoice  when  I  heard  it,  that 
she  had  taken  herself  off  so  quietly. 

I  now  lavished  my  money  as  though  it  would  never 
have  an  end.  By  all,  I  was  esteemed  the  most  noble- 
spirited  fellow  in  the  world,  and  even  little  wits  would 
be  silent  in  my  presence,  because  I  was  sure  to  pay  for 
the  wine  upon  which  they  were  to  riot.  My  cash  at 
length  beginning  to  run  low,  as  I  had  teen  all  along 
drawing  from  the  principal,  I  advised  with  Potter  how 
to  get  furnished  with  future  supplies.  He  advised  the 
gaming-table  as  a  never  failing  friend,  saying,  it  had 
long  since  been  the  only  resource  from  whence  he  de- 
rived his  subsistence. 

I  took  his  advice,  and  for  some  months  was  so  suc- 
cessful, that  I  began  to  dash  away  in  higher  life  at  the 
west  end  of  the  town.  I  bought  an  elegant  phaeton, 
which  I  drove  every  Sunday  in  Hyde  Park,  with  Miss 


124  THE    CHEAPSIUE    APrKE-STlCE. 

West  by  my  side.  One  day  as  I  was  driving  furiously 
through  Temple  Bar,  I  had  the  misfortune  to  overturn 
a  poor  man  with  a  heavy  load  on  his  back;  on  his 
getting  up,  I  perceived  him  to  be  Mr.  Vincent's  old 
porter,  to  whom  I  formerly  owed  my  disgrace. 

"Ah!  ah!  what,  is  it  you,  young  hopeful?"  cried 
he,  on  seeing  to  whom  he  owed  his  misfortune;  "  Your 
prancing  nags  may  die  a  natural  death,  master  Frank, 
but  verily,  I  think  'tis  more  than  you  will,  boy,  for  if 
you  die  in  your  shoes,  the  gallows  will  be  robbed  of  its 
due.  What  is  become  of  poor  Mary  Vincent,  you  pro- 
fligate dog  ;  have  you  broken  her  heart,  as  you  have 
that  of  her  poor  afflicted  parents?" 

The  sudden  recollection  of  that  unfortunate  girl 
caused  such  a  swimming  in  my  head,  that  the  reins 
dropped  from  my  hands,  my  horses  took  fright,  and  it 
was  almost  a  miracle  that  I  got  home  alive.  The  por- 
ter's words  had  made  such  an  impression  on  my  mind, 
that  I  could  not  shake  them  off.  Soon  after,  Potter 
calling  upon  me,  I  told  him  of  my  interview  wilh  the 
old  porter,  and  also  the  effect  it  had  on  me.  "  Frank," 
said  he,  "  if  a  fellow  of  your  spirit  can  be  thus  easily 
overcome  by  qualms  of  conscience,  let  us  instantly  ad- 
journ to  the  tavern,  since  good  wine  is  the  best  remedy 
in  the  world  to  drown  all  uneasy  recollections  in." 

I  gladly  accepted  his  proposal :  we  called  a  coach, 
and  off  we  went.  He  no  sooner  saw  my  spirits  in- 
flamed with  wine,  than  he  drew  me  to  the  gam  in  g- 
table,  where,  before  morning,  I  lost  every  shilling  I  had 
in  the  world  ;  I  applied  to  Potter  to  lend  me  fifty  guineas, 
as  he  had  won  more  than  two  hundred  of  me. 

Laughing  heartily,  he  told  me,  it  had  ever  been  a 
maxim  with  him,  never  to  lend  his  money  to  a  man 
who  had  not  prudence  to  keep  his  own;  "but  hark 


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